Of All Things Slytherin
by Meow-Mix-91
Summary: "The nerve of the little chit to dare aim a wand at him; he would make sure she paid dearly for such impertinent displays. His ego would not allow such transgressions to go unpunished...She really couldn't be more -sickeningly- Gryffindor."
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue: Down the Rabbit Hole**

Everything hurt.

Her legs, her arms, her head, her heart, everything. Blood and tears stained her face. She cracked her eyes open slowly. Her wand lay a few feet from her. She tried to move but immediately regretted the action. Pain laced through her abdomen, damn that fanatical, black hearted, witch.

She rolled herself over so that she lay on her back and hungrily inhaled the cool, earth-scented air. She pushed herself up gingerly to rest against the cobble-stoned wall behind her. Brown eyes flitted wearily to her stomach. Blood seeped through the injury continually. Thankfully, it was only a flesh wound. Gripping a protruding edge of rock, she heaved herself up with some effort. Stumbling over to the other side of the corridor, she retrieved her wand and muttered a quick spell to seal the gash. Leaning against the wall, she allowed herself to assess the current situation. She felt like she'd just been trampled by a herd of centaurs.

Judging by her surroundings, she determined that she was indeed, still located within the castle, however now, it was merely a matter of _where._

* * *

It was late when Seamus ran into the library to warn her. The professors had gone ahead to ward the castle before it could be breached. An earth-shattering bang resounded throughout the structure, clearly announcing their failure. Her peers were running through the halls in panic and she swiftly called them to order. Leading them to the secret passage beneath the One-eyed Witch, she was able to get the remaining students out of the castle safely.

Professor Mcgonagall ran down the hallway, Flitwick and Binns in her wake, "Miss Granger, thank heavens. Are the other students safe?" The Scottish woman had questioned, frantically.

"Yes, they are on their way to Hogsmeade through the One-eyed Witch passage."

"Brilliant girl. We have little time for idle-chit chat. Death Eaters have invaded the castle. I have sent for re-enforcements, we will have to hold on until they arrive, I'm afraid."

Hermione nodded in understanding, her heart rate increased as a wave of fear washed over her, "Just tell me what to do."

Suddenly, a sickening smile that was anything but Mcgonagall spread across the elder woman's face, the two men behind her chuckled. The young Gryffindor felt her blood turn to ice. Every cell in her screamed to run, but she held her ground lifting her chin in defiance. It was her duty to guard the entrance, if she was going to die, it would be protecting her fellow students.

"You, my dear, need do nothing, but stay put, like a good little girl, and you may just live to see the light of day." The voice that emitted from her head of house was all too young and familiar as the figure before her rippled like a mirage and transfigured into the wild-haired, pale-faced female.

"I highly doubt that, Lestrange."

The woman smirked in response, "Hmm, you are a smart one." She giggled insanely pulling out her wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Hermione exclaimed.

Bellatrix easily shielded herself from the spell, "Is that all the greatest witch of her age is capable of? I must admit I'm rather disappointed."

Her comrades smirked.

Shrugging, she sighed, "Oh well, and here I was hoping for a bit of late night sport."

Hermione took advantage of the woman's monologue and using wordless magic, discreetly stupefied the two behind her.

"You talk too much." Hermione provoked.

Beady black eyes sparked in anger, "In a hurry to die, aren't we? Crucio!"

Bellatrix screeched out and Hermione threw herself to the floor, having anticipated the spell. She attempted a second Stupify, but missed, hitting "Binns" again.

"Crabbe, Goyle, what's wrong with you oafs, get moving!" She ordered when "Binns" had failed to side-step the spell. Then her eyes widened when it dawned on her.

"Wordless magic, now I'm impressed. You should be proud!"

Spells were being cast back and forth between the women for a good fifteen minutes when Hermione realized the witch was merely toying with her. Letting her believe she was actually able to hold her own against a Death Eater, lulling her into a false sense of security then going in for the kill, literally. A blasting charm struck her square in the chest and knocked Hermione against the wall. Ignoring the pain, she quickly shot up and cast a jelly-legs jinx. Bellatrix wobbled stupidly before falling incredulously to the floor.

"Finite incantatem." She screeched.

Arising, she aimed another blasting charm at Hermione.

The girl was launched across the ground. Her wand flew out of her hand. Breathing heavily, she struggled to push herself up and reached desperately for her wand. The black, pointed, front of Bellatrix's boot descended upon her hand, pressing down without remorse. Hermione bit down on her tongue to prevent the scream that bubbled dangerously in her throat. Tears dotted the corners of her eyes.

Bellatrix clucked her tongue, "Now, now, deary, you won't need that anymore, at least not where you're going."

Mustering every ounce of physical strength she had left, she threw a punch at the woman's knee. Bellatrix shrieked in surprise before stumbling back and crumbling to the floor. Withher hand free, Hermione swept up her wand and tried to stand. A gloved hand grasped at her ankle and she felt herself falling forward. The duel switched to an all out physical brawl. The two women rolled around the floor scratching at each other's faces. Hermione's gaze shifted frantically to the immobilized duo when one of them groaned. The effects were quickly wearing off. She made to recast the spell only to have a hand encircle her throat in a choke-hold. She gasped.

"You pesky little mudblood bitch." She hissed, her grip tightening as she aimed the pointed end of her wand at Hermione's face.

"Crucio!"

This time, the curse hit its desired mark and Hermione was incapable of retaining her cries as wave after wave of agonizing pain washed over her. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes. She could taste the coppery tang of blood in her mouth. Her body hummed and her lungs constricted as she tried to breathe. Then, she felt and heard the sound of cloth and flesh being torn open. Bellatrix must have cast a slicing hex.

Hermione laid broken on the floor in a pathetic heap and began making her peace with God.

"Lestrange!"

Bellatrix ceased her onslaught momentarily to address the new arrival, "Severus, how wonderful of you to join us, I've just about finished up with this one. The mudblood was _very_ persistent." She growled, glaring murderously at the girl strewn across the floor.

Snape took in the sight. He could tell that Granger was barely hanging on, her breathing was labored. Bellatrix was bloodied and disheveled, more so than normal. He silently applauded the young woman; she certainly had managed to do a number on the witch.

"Shall I finish her off, then?" Snape asked in a bored tone, "You look like hell, by the way." He added, grinning.

"Gee, thanks Severus. Bloody greasy git, you are." She muttered patting down her hair self-consciously.

Hermione listened to the exchange impatiently, pleading to be put out of her misery when Snape kneeled down at her side, "Miss Granger, listen to me closely. If you wish to survive, I suggest you get moving. I'll distract them. Head out through the passage, seal the way once you're inside." He whispered.

Hermione tilted her head slowly in a sign that she understood, deciding not to question the man's motives. Lifting herself would be another battle all on its own.

"Severus, what's taking so long? Hurry up and kill the wretch so that we can be off."

Her adrenaline skyrocketed. She was up and flying toward the passageway without even chancing a look back behind her. She dove into the tunnel. The entrance shut firmly behind her and she quickly warded it about ten times over before taking off down the corridor. Tears blinded her vision and she found herself turning corners without even thinking. Thoughts were racing through her mind. Rounding a corner, the ground below her disappeared. She plummeted through the gap with a shriek, legs kicking out in panic and arms outstretched. Her short seventeen years of life flashed before her eyes, her family, her professors, her friends, and her beloved school.

She slammed into solid ground and then, utter darkness...

* * *

"Down the Rabbit Hole"- Peter Abrahams, Down the Rabbit Hole, An Echo Falls Mystery

Original Concept: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland- Lewis Carroll

**End Note**: Incase you missed the pairing. Salazar Slytherin/Hermione Granger. I apologize for any grammatical errors. I wanted to get this out before the last book. I don't need things any more complicated than they already are. This story continues after HBP, Hermione and the gang are in the middle of their 7th year at Hogwarts.

The continuation of this story all depends on you guys. I'll post up one more chapter, but if I see that I'm wasting my time, then I'll take it down. So, let me know what you think, that means, REVIEW. I would really appreciate it, plus I want to hear from fellow Sal/Mione fans.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1: Through the Looking Glass**

Hermione awoke with a start, her back ached from the way she had slept against the wall and her body throbbed dully. Hair fell over her eyes in a tangled mess and dry blood crusted against her was able to stand with some ease, having regained some of her energy. It was pitch black, a state that she remedied easily by casting a Lumos. Light emitted from the tip of her wand. Her eyes darted towards the walls which were covered with a green substance. She touched it hesitantly. It was moist and slippery, _like algae_, she mused. It occurred to her then that perhaps she was located somewhere beneath the lake.

Backing up from the wall, she raised her wand in perusal of the surrounding vicinity. It was an apparent dead end, with no means of escape but up or _forward_. With little choice, she willed herself to walk. There weren't any alternate paths so she didn't have to worry about getting any more lost than she already was. Smirking cynically at the thought she kept walking in silence. Hope bloomed in her chest when a breeze caressed the her cheek until it dawned on her that a proper breeze did not seemingly pull one in. It was like a vacuum. She paused mid-step, hesitating. Her instincts were pleading with her to turn back, but there was nowhere for her to go. Pushing aside her fears, she moved on again.

The scent of earth diminished and was replaced with a sulfuric odor. Scrunching her nose in distaste, Hermione batted the air in a futile attempt to make it go away. A cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck and attempted to distract herself with thoughts of the long, luxurious bath that awaited her once she escaped this mess.

A dim light up ahead prompted her forth quicker. Her pace grew swifter until she was practically jogging. The light grew in brilliance as she grew nearer until finding herself in a vast cavern. Central to the room stood three large pillars that encompassed a tarnished, silver basin resting in the middle atop a pedestal.

Hermione took in sight, awed, "Well, here's something new for the history books..."

Smoke the color of a sickening green spiraled in the air over the bowl. She considered the possibility that it was a pensieve before reconsidering the idea. Foregoing any means of precaution, she began her approach. The moment she stepped past the encirclement of the pillars, the light from her wand was snuffed out like a candle. Hermione eyed it curiously and pocketed it. She hadn't even taken one more step before she began to feel a searing pain in her abdomen. Hermione lifted her shirt. The previously healed wound had opened once more; blood flowed out, this time with a vengeance. She grabbed her wand and cast a healing spell. The wound remained open. Her magic had somehow been cancelled out.

She rushed toward the entrance of the cavern, but a newly erected barrier sent her crashing back. Blood seeped through her clothing. With one hand pressed against her wound, the other patted the floor in search of her wand. It was only then that she was made privy to the elaborate display of carvings in the ground. Wherever blood fell, it would trace it's way through the carvings toward the pedestal. When applying pressure to the injury did little to help, for the second time in the last twenty-four hours; Hermione thought she was going to die. Albeit, bleeding out in the middle of nowhere was a less glorified way to go than fending off Death Eaters...

Staring at her blood-stained hand, she winced. She had never felt so helpless. She gripped her shirt and ripped the cotton material easily, fastening it around her stomach. Moving toward the surrounding barrier, she touched her fingers to it, feeling the pulse of magic sizzle against her skin. Sighing exasperatedly she turned away to the source of all the activity. The pattern on the floor was completely traced through with her blood. It glittered in the ethreal light maliciously. Her brown eyes darted towards the pedestal. She watched, horrified and light-headed, as the smoke began twisting more vigorously than before.

Obsidian liquid started to rise from the silver basin. Hermione flitted across the small area in panic, pounding on the invisible barriers in some hope that they might relent. She was trapped; her heart beat in her chest, fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird. She backed up against a pillar for support, should her knees decide to give out on her. Her eyes widened in fear.

The blood ran its course up the sides of the pedestal and into the basin. She watched as the liquid mass grew in size until the bowl could no longer contain it. The blob spilled over onto the ground in a huge mess. She whimpered as she watched it twitch and wriggle on the cold floor. Her breathing quickening at a protrusion; something was trying to free itself from within the confines of the placenta-like material. The slimy surface ripped and a human hand emerged, followed by an arm shortly thereafter until the body of a full-grown male manifested itself, a very _naked_ full-grown male. Hermione admonished herself when she felt her cheeks grow warm that this wasn't exactly the best time to be acting modest.

The magical pulse throughout the cavern subsided and the barriers dissipated. Hermione, however, was too entranced in the man before her, in pure fascination, to realize. His face was concealed by wet strands of ebony hair that cascaded down his back and new muscles twitched beneath his pale skin. He hacked a few times as his new lungs began taking in oxygen. She remained stock still as the man took in his surroundings, her breath hitched when eyes, silver and piercing as a sword, landed on her person. He scrutinized her carefully, his gaze lingering upon the blood-stained cloth wrapped around her torso. She unconsciously adjusted an arm to shield it from his view.

He stood up shakily and stumbled towards her. Hermione was too scared to move and only pressed her body further back into the pillar behind her. He stood before her, legs shaking like a newborn faun. When he reached out for her, she hastily moved out of his grasp, prompting a grunt as his eyes stared her down, a glint of annoyance stirred within their depths. Slender fingers reached out to her once more and she watched as they descended down upon the wand protruding from the pocket of her tattered jeans. When she made a move to grab it he tugged it out in one swift movement. Triumph lit up in his eyes.

Hermione reached for it again, but he dangled it above her head out of her reach while lifting a finger and waving it back and forth in a silent, "_No, no, no_…" She frowned and made it seem like she had given up, but at the last minute she quickly made a jump for it, failing miserably and irritating her wound further.

A smirk split across the man's face and his chest rumbled with something she assumed was a chuckle.

"I'll be needing that back, if you don't mind." She voiced.

He ignored her and lifted the wand, flicking his wrist harshly. She flinched at the motion and watched a green light burn at the tip. He aimed the wand at her and she gasped. With another flick she felt a warming sensation in her abdomen. Her bandages had disappeared and her skin unmarred. Her hands flew to the area in disbelief. She tilted her head back up, wrapping her arms consciously around the exposed flesh, a blush staining her cheeks. The stranger rolled his eyes at the gesture, tapping the wand to his chest. Thread spun itself around his form until he was fully clothed in regal, forest green robes and his hair was pulled back revealing the contours of his face. He cleared his throat, instigating another onslaught of hacking.

When he spoke his voice was rough and a bit hoarse, "What is your name, girl?" He asked in a jaded tone.

She mentally stumbled over herself, "Hermione, Hermione Granger."

Hermione noticed his breathing still and his shoulders tense as he turned his sharp gaze on her yet again, arching an eyebrow in the process."Granger? Definitely not a surname of pure decent, a half-blood, I take it? Or perhaps, a mudblood?" He muttered and was amused to see the girl's once doe-like eyes flare up in anger.

Hermione was seething,"May I have my wand back?"

He looked her over before answering, "You provided no reason for me to trust you. Should you wish to be rid of me, what then? I have no desire to wallow in the darkness that is death anytime soon."

"What do you mean? Who are you exactly?"

"Lord Salazar Slytherin."

He was startled, to say the least, when the woman in front of him promptly erupted into a hysterical fit. Hermione had to clutch onto the pillar for support as her giggles slowly progressed into boisterous laughter. She gazed at him. The man even had the decency to appear affronted.

"I find no humor in my given name. Care to explain?"

Wiping the tears from her eyes, she laughed lightly, "I just resurrected Salazar _bloody _Slytherin…" She spoke aloud, as if affirming it made the situation any less surreal.

"I beg your pardon?" The girl maintained the vocabulary of a brigand.

She looked up at the self-proclaimed founder of Slytherin. "Should I be expecting the rest of the you lot to come oozing out of that thing?" Hermione gestured toward the silver basin.

He assumed she meant the rest of the founders and promptly responded, "Of course not, you fool." Salazar eyed the girl in irritation.

Hermione began to feel the effects of her ordeal. Emotional along with physical stress added up to one very ticked off woman and Salazar was unknowingly pushing all the right buttons. She stalked over to the man and poked him roughly in the chest, "Listen, _Sally_, unless you want to survive long enough to see the sun again, I suggest you keep your negative comments to yourself." She threatened.

He'd never met such an impudent girl.

Salazar grabbed the offending appendage, "Don't, _ever_, address me by 'Sally' again. It would also be wise to remember who here is in possession of a wand." He squeezed her hand for good measure- the very same one that Bellatrix had sought to render useless- and she winced.

His eyes boring into her own challengingly, she refused to back down, "I assume you are a student."

"You assume correct." She bit back.

"I _assume _you are of Gryffindor House?"

She smirked, "Ten points to Slytherin." she replied, cheekily.

Even in death, it appeared Godric was mocking him, curse that buffoon. A mudblood _and _a Gryffindor, he couldn't decide which was worse.

* * *

Through the Looking Glass- Lewis Carroll

**End Note**: You want more? I can give you plenty more…just let me know if you want it. You know what that means…REVIEW! Sorry for any grammatical errors.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2: There & Back Again**

When people asked her what she would be doing over the holidays, her replies usually consisted of things like 'research, studying, taking Crookshanks to the groomer'. Never in the name of the Dark Lord, himself, would she ever have considered the fact that she would be occupying the same breathing space as Salazar Slytherin, not to mention arguing with the man who was the literal bane of her existence.

Hermione wrenched her hand free of his grasp, "Don't _ever_touch me again." she spat venomously. Dealing with Slytherins and their bigotry over the last few years had taken a toll on her. Lo' and behold, here she was, face to face with their almighty leader. Of all the things that could've come out of that damn bowl..."What I wouldn't give for a shower and a cup of tea right now." She sobbed, ignoring Salazar completely.

"Oh Merlin, how am I going to get out of here?"

"Did it not occur to you that, perhaps, that I might know the answer to that?"

Hermione glanced around the cavern, "And you failed to mention this until now _because_?"

He narrowed his eyes at her disdainfully, "You _failed_ to ask."

"Well, since we're on the topic of 'questions', what is this place?"

His hands against the stone walls, "A chamber erected for the purposes of my personal workings."

"Such as...?"

"Is the answer to_ that_ not apparent enough?"

"_Apparently_," Their wordplay was quickly becoming a game, "The question remains as to _why?_"

"_That_ is none of your concern."

Hermione went quiet. Of course he would refuse to tell her. It was so typical of a man of his character. She followed him with her eyes as he continued to move about the room. Crossing her arms over her chest, she waited and watched. Her body chose to remind her of the abuse it had taken. Her arms were sore and she was sure to be covered in bruises. Her hair probably put the Amazonian Rainforest to shame. She was destined to spend a good hour trying to tame it. As a child growing up, she had always heard stories about witches with their stereotypical hooked noses, black cats, and crazy hair. So, you could imagine her surprise when she'd entered into the world of Wizardry to women with ridiculously beautiful tresses. Even _he, _she stared pointedly at Salazar, had nicer hair than she did, and he was a _man._

The silence grew deafening, "Seeing as how you were not exactly thrilled to see me, who did you intend to bring you back to the land of the living?"

"An heir, unfortunately it would appear that people of this time are not particularly competent."

Hermione's eyes widened, "A chamber, you said...Chamber of Secrets..."

"What did you say?" He finally turned to acknowledge her.

"This place, it wouldn't happen to be..."

"How did you…"

"That's not possible though...we thought the basilisk..."

"Inaga...she was but a 'secret' amongst 'secrets', a guardian ensuring that unwanted individuals, like yourself, did not stumble upon this place." Salazar stated, "It would seem she has failed in her duties."

"That beloved pet of yours was running rampant through the school's plumbing system a few years ago. It was a nuisance and hence, was exterminated. That snake is responsible for the death of a female student, your heir can be held accountable for that little past transgression."

Salazar's icy gaze suddenly fired up, "You mean to tell me that someone _destroyed _my familiar?"

"Perhaps if you kept your pets on a tighter leash, your precious reptile would still be alive, and I would be very dead at this moment." Hermione stated, matter-of-factly.

"That creature was the last of her species!" He bellowed, stomping his foot angrily.

Hermione didn't know whether to be afraid or amused that _the _Salazar Slytherin was about to throw a hissy fit over his dead serpent,"You mentioned something about a means of escape?" She asked, in an attempt to divert the subject.

Salazar paused in his tirade long enough to fumble around the room a bit more before pausing in front of a stone slab. He pulled out her wand and muttered an incantation. The slab of rock tremored, broke into pieces and formed a spiral staircase. Hermione stared incredulously at the sight. Wands tended to be meticulous in choosing their masters. She recalled one instance where Ron had borrowed hers in Charms around the time that his had been broken. The moment the boy had touched it, angry red sparks shot out of the end. It refused to cast the simplest of spells. Yet, here she was now, witnessing Salazar _Slytherin_ wave it around conjuring up robes and shattering earth. She stared at the instrument resentfully, _traitor_.

"Are you coming or not? I will not hesitate to leave you down here, girl."

Hermione pursed her lips before slowly following him up the stairway, "You couldn't have honestly expected that snake of yours to remain stationary over the centuries."

"**Inaga **was given the simple task of guarding these chambers when I left this world. In return, she was promised protection and release upon my resurrection."

"Speaking of which, what triggered the magic that resurrected you?" She pressed.

The footfalls ceased, "I haven't the faintest idea." He replied.

"How can you _not_ no?" Hermione latched onto the hem of his robes.

"Release me." He ordered.

She did so, eyeing him warily.

"I'm just as determined as you are to be rid of this place, so please stop dallying." He pleaded, or at least, that was as close to a "plea" as she would probably ever get from him."You ask far too many questions." Salazar remarked further.

"Hermione..." She gritted out.

"What?"

"My name is not 'girl' it is Hermione, or Miss Granger, whichever you prefer."

"I _prefer_ it if you remained silent from here on out."

She narrowed her eyes at him. The ghost of a smirk that flitted across his features did not go unnoticed.

* * *

"What do you mean you can't find her?" A decorative plate flew across the room, coming to a crashing halt against the wall.

"Harry Potter, calm down right this instant!" Molly Weasley snapped.

His breathing heavy and hair mussed due to fitful sleep, Harry begrudgingly took a seat at the kitchen table.

Snape sat across from him, a vein twitching irritatedly in his forehead, nursing a broken arm, "As I was saying before Potter saw fit to interrupt- all the students have been accounted for and are safe, all except Miss Granger, of course. Her venture into the passageway was the last anyone has seen of her. None of the students we retrieved reported seeing her. It took Shacklebolt and Dora four hours to break through that girl's wards." He grumbled, "At least we know the girl was thorough."

"And what of the remaining staff?"

"A bit shaken up, but overall, no casualties. Minerva had a head injury, but nothing that won't heal come morning. We were low on staff due to the holidays." Snape smeared grey ointment over the various cuts and bruises that mottled his pale skin.

"Well, that's quite a relief to hear." Molly sighed wearily, "Hermione, the poor dear..."

The room remained eerily still as its occupants reflected upon their own thoughts. While random disappearances in the wizarding world were not uncommon, the random disappearance of one Hermione Granger _was. _Ron sat white-faced next to his mother, an arm wrapped soothingly around his younger sister's shoulder as she shook in silent sobs. Harry stood tensely behind them, his hands clenching and unclenching in unvoiced anger. He felt sick to his stomach. They'd been so seemingly untouchable, Hermione more so. The idea that she could be lost to them was reality's way of slapping him in the face. He needed to wake up. No one was immune in times of war. He should have realized it sooner, after Sirius had been so abruptly taken from him, and then Dumbledore shortly thereafter.

"We haven't given up, we just thought we'd get Severus cleaned up before we continued the search." Tonks said reassuringly, "You know more than any of us how smart Mione is, Harry. I'm sure she is fine."

"For your sake," Harry fixed his gaze upon Snape, "she'd better be."

Severs stood up rapidly, knocking his chair back, "Is that a threat, boy?"

Molly rose from her seat as well, "Now, boys, behave. We haven't the time to be arguing amongst ourselves. Hermione is still missing and we should be focusing all our energy on finding her." She placed a hand on Severus's shoulder.

Snape gently shrugged it off and stalked out of the dining room. Molly watched him leave, sadly. She really did feel for the man, having done so much for the Order already and now his cover was blown.

She rounded on Harry tersely, "You should be ashamed of yourself, Harry. If Severus had not intervened, Hermione would have been as good as dead." Harry flinched, "Frankly, You should be thanking the man."

Harry visibly deflated, dropping into the chair Snape had previously occupied. The circles under his eyes had never looked darker and the bones in his face were more pronounced. He had not been eating lately. Molly almost teared up at the sight. The boy looked, in one word, haunted. It was a look that shouldn't be reserved for people his age. He had seen too much, suffered too much, and it was slowly destroying him. She prayed that they would be successful in locating Hermione alive. One more casualty of this caliber would surely be his undoing. She knew it, and so did the rest of the Order.

"Do you have any idea what they were after, the Death Eaters, I mean?" Molly addressed Tonks.

"Isn't it obvious? Potter of course. They probably assumed he'd be staying at Hogwarts over the holidays."

"Well it's a good thing we decided to have him stay here instead, isn't it Harry dea-?" She peered over at Harry, but he had already gone.

* * *

Hermione's heart thumped loudly in her ears. _One hundred ninty-one, one hundred ninty-two, _she counted strenuously in her head after ascending each step, all the while glaring daggers at the back of Salazar's head. The man sure had a lot of stamina for someone having just been reborn less than an hour ago. She, on the other hand, was on the brink of collapsing in exhaustion. She wondered if the strain from the past few hours would cause any permanent damage. She tried not to entertain the thought for too long, lest it disrupt her counting. _Two hundred, two hundred one, two hundred two, _she began to wonder how much farther they'd have to climb when Salazar, as if sensing her thoughts, spoke.

"It is only a short ways from here." He called over his shoulder.

Hermione perked up considerably at the announcement. The idea of freedom and fresh air being "a short ways from here" was motivation enough to pick up the pace and she pushed herself to catch up to Salazar who was within five-step's distance from her. She'd been so occupied in watching where she stepped that she ended up running face-first into Salazar's back. Thrown off balance, Hermione wobbled dangerously, her eyes darting to the cavern bellow in horror. An arm shot out and a hand latched onto her wrist, steadying her. Hermione exhaled shakily.

Salazar frowned down at her, "Take care to watch where you are going."

Hermione grumbled inaudibly under her breath, "Perhaps if you had not stopped so abruptly."

He scowled, extracting her wand from within the folds of his robes.

Her eyes went from him to the wall of solid rock barring their passage, "What do you intend to do now? Nothing short of Bombarda Maxima is going to be able to get through that."

Salazar smirked lazily and tapped the wand thoughtfully against his chin.

"You can't be serious." Hermione stared at him in shock.

Shaking his head, chuckling softly at the girl's absurdity, he aimed the wand at the slab of rock, "Aperio."

The rock rippled like water and receded, disappearing altogether revealing a door with an iron-wrought handle in the shape of a serpent."An illusion." He said, speaking down to her as if she were a first year, a smug smile fixated upon his features.

She wanted nothing more than to smack that look right off his face,"Lovely trick," Hermione pushed by him, snatching her wand out of his grasp in the process. Shooting him a smug smile of her own, "I'll be taking this back, thank you very much."

Tugging on the door, it gave way and she heaved it open. Hermione allowed her to revel in the notion that she was _this_much closer to a bath and a warm bed when the thought suddenly occured to her. How exactly was she going to explain the fact that the formerly deceased founder of Slytherin was no longer..._dead_?

"Oh Merlin..." She whined, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"What now?" Salazar eyed the girl impatiently.

Hermione could only stare at him. _Why didn't **Riddle **awaken him? Salazar Slytherin would have made quite the fearsome ally...unless Riddle didn't **know** about..._

"Who is this _Riddle_?"

Her eyes widened. Of course. She'd forgotten. The history books had listed Legilimency as one of Salazar Slytherin's many talents, "Stay OUT of my head." She ordered sharply while working to shield her mind.

Salazar rolled his eyes, "You went ashen, I thought you were about to have a fit."

Hermione ignored him, doing her best to bar her thoughts. It was imperative that he remain unaware of the war and his heir. He could not be trusted based on his past chauvinistic tendencies. However, he hardly seemed at all as malicious as some of the present Xenophobes. Not once had he made an attempt on her life in the short time that they were in each other's presence. His remarks, too, had been kept at a minimum, aside from the subtle looks of distaste and annoyance which could be attributed to her own attitude towards him. It was all very curious. After another minute of silent deliberation, Hermione stepped aside and let him through.

The room that they entered was littered with old snake's skin and bones littered the floor. Hermione stepped carefully over the remnants toward a porthole on the other side where a beam of light shot through. Salazar watched her tip-toe across the space in amusement while kicking aside the debris in his wake. She assessed the aperture and determined that it was large enough for her to crawl through. Tucking her wand into her pocket, she grabbed the edge and heaved herself up with a grunt.

"What do you think you are doing?" Salazar wondered if all women of this time were as foolhardy as the curl-haired witch before him.

She let herself drop back to the ground before turning to acknowledge the man, "I'm _trying_ to get to the other side. Now if you'll kindly excuse me," she lifted herself up again.

"That isn't necessary."

With an exasperated sigh, she dropped back down again, "_What?_"

"You do not need to be going about shuffling through holes in the wall like a rodent. There are far more less _inconvenient_ methods."

Hermione huffed, "Oh really, one of those being...?"

"If you would be so kind as to allow me the use of your wand..."

She eyed him warily before handing it over.

"Patefacio." Cracks formed in the rock and light penetrated through. There was a whoosh of air and the mass moved forward allowing a space big enough for them to walk through.

Hermione was the first one through the threshold after retrieving her wand. Her footsteps making a splashing sound as she entered into the chamber beyond. Her heart momentarily ceased beating at the sight that greeted her and her throat constricted. Salazar, whom had followed shortly behind her involuntarily winced. A giant snake carcass was sprawled across the floor. This was where Harry faced the creature that wreaked havoc throughout the school those few years ago, where Ginny nearly died, where a horcrux had unknowingly been destroyed. She glanced cautiously at Salazar and couldn't help but feel an inkling of sympathy for the man, forever the bleeding heart that she was. His face was impassive.

"Enough. Let us proceed." He splashed through the puddle-riddled floor.

The ground shook as the opening from whence they'd entered sealed shut and the sea-green bust of a man stared back at her. She was going to have a lot of explaining to do.

* * *

There & Back Again or "The Hobbit"- J.R.R. Tolkien

**End Note: **Thank you to all the reviewers who pushed me to write more. This story is dedicated to all of you. We know what it takes, or rather _who_ it takes, to make a great pairing! Sorry for any grammatical errors.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3: Ready or Not**

Hermione followed Salazar through the chamber and into a set of tunnels where they passed more piles of discarded skin and bone. She resorted to staring at the designs on the back of the man's robes to distract herself from the disturbing scenery. She wound up stumbling over a piece of rubble and was forced to latch onto Salazar's clothing to avoid falling forward. The man paused in his trek long enough to shake her off in obvious irritation.

"How many times must I reiterate- watch where you are going, you clumsy little fool." He growled.

Hermione snapped."That is it! You've been nothing but a royal prat!" She bellowed.

Salazar quirked an eyebrow in response, "Are you quite finished? I've little patience for _children_ much less their childish tantrums."

"_Childish_? I'll show you childish!" Hermione screeched, "Silencio!" She aimed her wand at him. Salazar's eye widened in surprise as his arms shot up instinctively to shield himself. When he yelled at her, she was met with nothing but sweet silence. A hand shot promptly to his throat as he realized what she had done and his gaze was murderous.

She stood her ground, smiling victoriously, "I've had enough of your sarcasm and attempts at belittlement." She shoved her wand back into the pocket of her jeans, "And seeing as how civility appears to be a mindless endeavor on your part, there is really no need for you to be talking."

Salazar mentally cursed her. The _nerve_ of the little chit to _dare_ aim a wand at _him; _he would make sure she paid dearly for such impertinent displays. His ego would not allow such transgressions to go unpunished. Though, he had to hand it to the girl. She really couldn't be more -sickeningly- Gryffindor. The last person who'd had enough gal to cast a spell on him was Godric, that insufferable oaf. When he wasn't busy maintaining the school, the rest of Gryffindor's time was spent devising ways to prank the Slytherin Head of House. They weren't exactly _fond _memories, but they were still memories...good ones. As for the girl, he would allow her to entertain the thought that she had won for now. He plowed forward with renewed vigor. The sooner he was rid of her, the better.

* * *

Dead End. Hermione craned her neck, peering up the shaft. Biting her bottom lip in thought, she glanced at Salazar, "Any suggestions?"

He narrowed his eyes dangerously at her.

"What's that? Cat got your tongue?" She provoked.

He scowled.

"If you utter so much as ONE negative comment I'll sew your lips shut instead." Hermione threatened before removing the spell.

With the capability of speech so graciously returned to him, he hissed out in Parseltongue. Stones jutted out of the wall forming yet another set of stairs. The sinks overhead moved aside.

Hermione looked on, disdainfully, "Brilliant, more stairs. What _is it_ with you and stairs?" She questioned rhetorically, climbing the first few set of steps.

Inhaling the musky scent of his chambers one last time, he followed the girl up the stairs. She disappeared briefly through the opening and for a second he thought she might have deserted him. A moment later her voice called down to him to "hurry" and he could not suppress the feeling of relief that enveloped him. He had almost thought it all to be some kind of dream, that these stairs would go on forever and he would never reach the top. What was waiting for him up there? What _world_ was he about to enter into? He was anxious to find out for himself. If the girl was any reflection of what was to be expected, then life from here on out would prove to be very...interesting. Salazar pulled himself through and the sinks shifted, shutting into place behind him.

The late afternoon sun shone through the window. Hermione never thought she'd ever be as grateful to see the light of day again. It was a glorious sight. She would have plenty of time to dwell on it later. For now, she needed to focus on getting out of the castle. She didn't know what to expect. The spectrum ranged from the Order to Voldemort, himself. The only capable fireplace to Floo was in the Headmistress's office, the other option was to Apparate, which required them crossing the grounds and passing through the gates. They were both risky decisions. She weighed them each carefully before deciding Apparation to be the best option seeing as how they were currently on the second floor.

"Listen," She addressed Salazar, "- I'll keep this simple. We may encounter some problems. Just do what I say. So, if I say run, you run. That shouldn't be too difficult for you to comprehend." Hermione pulled the door open only to have it slammed shut.

Salazar loomed over her, dangerously close. His breath caressed the shell of her ear and she froze, "I will refrain from asking questions for now. However, I think it only fair that I warn you. Once I am able to obtain a wand, you will never have a moment's peace; not while I'm around, at least."

Hermione eyed him through her peripheral vision, "_If_...that's _if_ you are able to obtain a new wand," she jerked her head away from him, "And I will be **THE** deciding factor in that determination. So I suggest you keep your idle threats to yourself."

Salazar smirked. She was quite the spitfire. He stepped back.

She slipped through the door into the corridor, wand poised and ready. The castle was deathly silent, not even a ghost in sight. She beckoned Salazar forth and the two of them started down the hall. He wondered what made the girl so wary all of a sudden. He pressed at the "walls" she had tried so hard to erect around her thoughts. Since she refused to tell him anything, he would just have to find out for himself. She tensed immediately and he pulled back, steeling himself against whatever onslaught of angry words she decided to throw at him for trying to invade her mind. She stopped in the middle of the corridor and faced him.

"Did you hear that?"

Salazar was a bit caught off guard at the question, "Hear what?"

Hermione shook her head, "Nevermind." and continued walking.

* * *

"Harry, I'm sorry, but you can't come along." Tonks started, Harry frowned. "What if the Death Eaters have returned? We can't risk putting you in danger. I promise we'll find Hermione."

He had no choice but to comply with her wishes. Besides, it wasn't as if he could just get up and go anywhere what with Mrs. Weasley watching the front door like a hawk. The pink haired woman smiled, grasping his hands, reassuringly. He eyed the vibrant shade of neon green and hot pink, polka-dotted, pattern on her nails. He hated having to sit around and wait. He wanted to be out there with them, searching for Hermione. _Hermione_, he thought, and hoped with every fiber in his being that they found his best friend. Tonks patted his hand lovingly. The poor boy was a wreck.

"Dora, we're off. Remus and Moody will be accompanying us." Kingsley shouted at her from the kitchen.

Tonks rose swiftly, "We'll be back soon, Harry." She smiled at him once more before skittering off toward the kitchens in search of her beloved Remus.

Left alone once more, Harry leaned back into sofa and shut his eyes. Ginny walked in shortly after and sat in one of the chairs near the fireplace. The two hadn't been on speaking terms ever since he'd decided to terminate their relationship. Without so much as a glance at him, she pulled out a bottle of candy-apple red nail polish- a birthday present from Hermione- and began painting. Harry wanted nothing more in that moment to just go over there and pull her into his arms. He missed the way her hair smelled and the space between her neck and shoulder where he would often rest his chin. Thankfully, Ron padded into the room, bowl of cereal in his hands and a spoon sticking out of the corner of his mouth

"How you holding up, mate?" He asked, mouth full.

"I'm worried about her; aren't you?"

"Of course I was- er, **am**. But, then I figured- this is _Mione_ we're talking about." Ron explained.

Harry smiled, Ron did have a point.

"Oi, Ginny, can you do that somewhere else. That rubbish is starting to stink up the place."

"If you don't like it, you can bugger off." She bit back.

Ron grumbled to himself and shoveled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

* * *

The search party arrived at the gates of Hogwarts with a 'pop', "Be on your guard." Moody ordered gruffly.

Kingsley and Tonks fell to the rear, Remus and Moody headed, "Are we going to investigate the One-Eyed Witch passage again?" Tonks asked. She wasn't too fond of such places. It was dank, dark, and downright dirty.

"First we'll do a quick sweep of the castle for Death Eaters and then, yes, we'll be down in the tunnels again." Remus confirmed, smiling at the pout he received in return.

Tonks blushed. Kingsley snickered to himself at her reaction and got an elbow in the stomach, courtesy of the pink-haired woman to his right.

"Snap to it you two. I'll not have my former students making a mockery of themselves, this is the same as any other mission. Remember, Constant Vigilance!" Moody lectured ahead of them.

* * *

After successfully descending the grand staircase without a hitch, Hermione was able to let her guard down and relax. It quickly became apparent that the castle was deserted with the exception of the many portraits it housed. Questions shot at her from all sides as they climbed down the stairs. She answered as many as possible, grateful when she was finally free of their incessant inquiring. Salazar had kept quiet, following shortly behind her. In the light, he was finally able to properly assess her appearance as he trailed her through another deserted corridor. In short, the girl was a mess.

She'd pinned up her hair with her wand earlier once it had been determined that the castle was clear. Stray curls sprouted from the sides of her head and her clothes were tattered. She looked like the victim of a potion explosion. Blood crusted against her cheek and the exposed skin of her torso. The strange leggings she sported would have been considered utterly indecent for a woman of her age to be donning. It left little to the imagination. He couldn't help but wonder if this fashion was worn by _all _members of the female species. The idea of women parading aound so scantily clad- by his standards- was nothing short of...**wonderful**. He was first and foremost, a hot blooded male.

Hermione turned around to make sure Salazar was still behind her only to spy him staring ahead with a rather lecherous smirk on his face.

She flushed, "What do you think you are doing?"

Salazar snapped out of his musings momentarily. The girl's cheeks were tinged a rosy pink and she was glaring at him in what appeared to be mortification. She thought he had been leering, the little twit. She should be so lucky as to be on the receiving end of one of _his_heated looks. The mudblood was nothing but a mere child in comparison. Though, he could not resist the opportunity that had so willingly presented itself. It would be a most entertaining way to get back at her for all of the abuse he had suffered over the last few hours. He strode over to her slowly, languidly, almost. She took a step back. He took another strategic step closer. Her hand flew to retrieve the wand nestled in her hair. He caught her wrist and pinned it against the wall behind her. She threw her other hand out in an attempt to slap him. He grabbed it, sliding a leg in between hers. Fear blossomed in her eyes, but her jaw was set and her chin lifted in defiance.

Salazar chuckled, "You do so love to make assumptions, don't you?"

"I should have known better than to turn my back on a Slytherin." She spat.

He grinned, leaning into her. She jerked her head to the side, exposing the smooth skin of her neck. Goosebumps erupted along the patches of flesh where his warm breath skimmed across. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. Salazar felt her stiffen when she felt him move. He carefully released his hold on her arms and retracted his leg, pulling back. Her eyes fluttered open. He stood a ways from her, waiting expectantly, characteristic-Slytherin smirk situated on his face. Before she could bite out one of the multitudes of horrible hexes she had in mind for him, the sound of laughter echoed down the corridor off the walls. Salazar saw a look of recognition sweep across her features at the sound. No sooner had she heard it, she was flying down corridor.

Tears punctuated each corner of her eyes at the sight of bubblegum-pink hair. Remus had never looked so dashingly haggard, nor Moody more vigilent with his wand at the ready and staff at his side. Kingsley and his colorful robes flowing behind him.

"Lupin, Tonks!" She shouted, sprinting into the Entrance Hall.

Remus jerked in bewilderment at the sound of his name, "Hermione!" He gasped in surprise as the girl flew into his embrace.

The group huddled in close around the young woman whose face was stained with tears,"Blimey, Hermione, what happened to you?" Tonks took in Hermione's disheveled appearance.

Before she could open her mouth in reply, _his_ voice disturbed the joyous reunion, "A warning, if you please, the next time you decide to take off running like a madwoman."

He was met with multiple stares, much to his dismay. Her comrades were quick to aim their wands at him. He took a step back defensively.

"Merlin, calm down, the lot of you, he couldn't harm a fly, he isn't even armed." Hermione assured them, surprisingly moving to stand in front of the man.

They all eyed him in suspicion,"Who's your new friend, Mione?" Tonks started, "Slytherin by the looks of it, he's got the ensemble down. Anyone who wears such a ghastly shade of green _must _be a Slytherin."

Hermione laughed nervously, "Oh for heaven's sake, lower your wands!" She motioned for Salazar to come closer. He did so, albeit cautiously, positioning himself so that he remained situated behind the girl's small frame should they start shooting off spells.

They were going to send her straight to St. Mungos's after this,"Um…this is...uh...Salazar, Salazar Slytherin." She decided to just dive right into it.

"Lord…" He interjected.

"_Lord _Salazar Slytherin…" She corrected, shooting him a pointed look.

When Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody was at loss for words that clearly suggested that things were about to get very complicated.

"Oi…" Kingsley exhaled.

"H-Hermione..." Remus stuttered.

"I know it's a bit difficult to take in at first."

"But it _is_ true." Salazar concluded in her stead.

Hermione sighed, relating the events of the past few hours in a short, selective, summary.

"Oh bugger…" Tonks' wand slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor.

* * *

**End Note**: Hello all! Another chapter in honor of the 7th book's release…Just for the record, this story does not follow DH I just wanted to be one of the first one's to say that even thought it's pretty obvious. As for me, don't expect to see anything until I'm done with that book. To all the HP peeps, enjoy and savor this book as much as I will!

Oh yeah, I threw in a POTC line in here. It's pretty easy to see, gotta love that Jack Sparrow.

Best Wishes!

Miss Meow


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4: When Harry Met Sally **(-zar, that is…)

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, slightly annoyed at the looks being sent her way, "I'm one hundred percent serious…and NO I did NOT hit my head _that _hard." Tonks smiled sheepishly, recognizing that the latter part of Hermione's outburst had been directed at her.

Salazar stood impatiently behind the girl as she attempted to defend her state of mind against the group. He supposed it was not easy to believe that a founder was alive and well after so many thousands of years. The fact that they thought it _impossible, _however, was a bit insulting. He was _Salazar Slytherin_, he was more than capable of such magic. They severly underestimated his power. He was a sorceror of the most highest esteem in his time. The old codger with the shifty eye diverted his attention then. The man had been staring at him for a while now, he noted.

"Hermione," Kingsley piped up, "How is it that his speech; it is perfect."

Hermione fumbled. Kingsley did bring up a good point. The man spoke modern english fluently, "How _can _you speak our language so well, let alone understand it?" She was surprised that it had never occured to her before. She had just been so distracted with everything.

Salazar scowled, they really did not afford him much credit, "A complex comprehensive spell. It allows me to speak in your modern vernacular as well _as_ comprehend your dialect."

_Impressive,_ Hermione acknowledged.

"Perhaps we should discuss the rest of this at headquarters." Moody finally cut in, "Miss Granger has been through quite enough."

"What about _him_?" Tonks inquired.

"Indeed." Salazar scowled at the pixie-haired female.

They all waited expectantly for an answer from the former Auror, "I suppose he'll have to come with us, we can't exactly leave him here. He'll have to be temporarily incapacitated, however. We cannot risk disclosing our base of operations."

Salazar had little choice but to comply with their wishes. He counted on the mudblood's Gryffindor chivalry to protect him should her companions decided to dispense of him. He stepped out from behind the girl. She looked at him questioningly, but kept whatever it was to herself. He decided to avoid probing any minds for answers. Legilimency would not be a means by which to gain trust. He would have to wait. Too bad patience wasn't one of his strong points. It was hard to imagine that he'd waited for so long to be resurected. One would assume he would have gained all the patience in the world. Alas, old habits die hard.

"Kingsley, if you would be so kind…"

The Auror conjured up a blindfold and levitated it across to Salazar. He eyed it in distaste before plucking it out of the air. He fastened it around his head. Someone came up behind him and tightened it none too gently. He grimaced and tugged at it. Someone else slapped his hand when attempted to loosen the piece of cloth. He glared in the perpetrator's general direction, hoping that his message got through. There was the distict sound of persons shuffling and he felt a presence occupy the space to his left. Then, a smaller hand enveloped his own and placed it on their shoulder. He grinned and squeezed lightly causing the owner to grumble unitelligably. It was enough for him to confirm their identity.

"Stay close," The girl muttered.

"Let us be on our way." Moody led the party out the castle entrance and down to the main gates.

The group trudged through the snow and Salazar felt the girl shiver. Apparently it had not occured to anyone to lend the girl a suitable piece of clothing to shelter her from the cold. She was too prideful to complain. He waited a bit to see if anyone would catch on. No one said anything. He stopped, grabbing onto her shoulder making her stop with him, "What is it now?" She hissed.

He unfastend his outer robe and pulled them off, draping them over her head, "Your constant twitching is irritating me."

Hermione blinked in astonishment.

"Hermione, is everything alright?" Tonks shouted out to her.

"Y-yes," She stammered out, teeth clattering, "Just a moment!" Without further delay, she shrugged the robe on, set Salazar's hand back in place, and kept forward.

Tonks glanced wide-eyed at Kingsley, the two having witnessed the display. Her fellow Auror only shrugged in response.

"Miss Granger, I assume you know how to apparate." Moody asked as soon as they had stepped past the castle gates.

Hermione nodded and moved closer to Salazar awkwardly.

"Kingsley and I will go on ahead. Miss Granger will follow. Tonks and Remus you will follow at the rear. See you all at Headquarters." Moody and Kingsley disappeared with a pop leaving the remaining four standing in the fading sunlight.

"Uh, you are going to have to...hold onto me...briefly." She did not want to risk splinching the man. A mere hand-on-the-shoulder would not suffice.

Salazar fought back a smirk and allowed himself to encircle her waist, jerking her small frame toward his. She squieked, face coloring. She hazarded a glance at Remus and Tonks. They both sent her baffled looks. She smiled weakly at them and vanished.

"It's going to be a long night." Lupin sighed, before he and Tonks Apparated.

* * *

Hermione and Salazar appeared on the street in front of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. She was quick to extract herself from he man's embrace. Salazar let her go without complaint as he steadied himself, riding out the aftereffects of such a strenuous ordeal. Bile nestled in his throat and he fought down the urge to vomit. Whatever had just happened he hoped to never experience again. It was quite an uncomfortable means of travel. He could not fathom someone willing subjecting themselves to such discomfort. He had never been much for flying, but that means of transportation had never seemed more appealing to him than at the current moment in time.

"Things are going to move deleriously fast," Hermione grabbed his wrist, "Just stay quiet and let me do all of the talking and for Merlin's sake, _try_ to be somewhat pleasant." She pleaded.

"Merlin, that old windbag of a wizard." he mumbled.

Hermione gritted her teeth, "Fine then, for the _sake_ of the person of your choosing, _behave."_

"Oh, now you just sound like my mother...horrid woman."

"Ugh!" She forfeighted, dragging him through the street and up the battered steps.

She rang the doorbell and the door cracked open shortly thereafter. A delicious odor assaulted her senses making her stomach growl in appreciation. She had not eaten in _days_. She promised herself a hefty meal after she cleaned up. Hermione towed Salazar through the narrow entryway and into the foyer where Moody and Kingsley awaited their arrival.

"Feel free to remove your blindfold." Kingsley smiled broadly.

Salazar did so, thankful to be rid of the hinderence. He examined his surroundings carefully. Cobwebs were nestled in the corners where wall met rooftop and a thick coat of dust blanketed the banister. Clearly either the residents enjoyed the companionship of dust bunnies or the place had not been inhabited for quite some time. Judging by the way the wallpaper was starting to peel, the latter of which could be assumed. Even the floor beneath was in dire need of a good scrubbing. "Headquarters" they had called it. He wondered what sort of secret organization chose to occupy a shack. What's more, he wondered what _kind_ of secret organization these people were involved in.

Moody escaped into the kitchen briefly only to return seconds later, Molly Weasley bustling behind him. She tackled Hermione in a hug, tears shining in her eyes. Hermione returned the gesture with equal ferosity, sobbing into the woman's shoulder. The fiery-haired female smiled gently and stroked the length of the young Gryffindor's hair, soothingly. Salazar watched the exchange in a stunned silence. The woman shared an uncanny resemblence to his former, fellow founder, Helga Hufflepuff. It was striking. He could not keep himself from staring. It was like he had suddenly found himself transported back in time. Nostalgia began to rear it's ugly head and clenched at his heart in an icy grip.

"Hermione dear, thank Merlin you are safe! We've all been worried sick." Then, Molly's gaze shifted to Salazar, puzzled, "And who is this?" Salazar shot a questiong look at Hermione, whom could only stare back helplessly.

Hurried footsteps shuffling down the stairs fortunately delayed the imminent introduction, "Hey mum, is dinner ready?" Ron froze.

"What's the hold-up, get moving!" Ginny shoved at her brother before following his train of sight, "Hermione...?" She uttered in disbelief.

Hermione smiled, "Hello."

The two siblings bombarded her, "Oh Hermione," Ginny blubbered, hugging the girl, "What the bloody hell happened to you?" Ron gawked at her appearence.

The stairs creaked, "Harry," Hermione sighed, a fresh set of tears threatening to spill over.

"Hermione," He took the remaining steps two at a time, and pulled her into an embrace.

He clung to her desperately, fearful that if he let her go she would disappear, "You look like you got into a row with a band of pixies." Harry said after he'd pulled away and taken a good look at her.

"Thanks, as if I needed reminding that I look like shit."

Harry laughed.

Salazar couldn't retstrain the snide comment from emmiting from his lips, "All this sentimental rubbish is sickening. I think I may be ill." And just like that, his existance was recognized.

"Who's _this_ wanker?"

The color drained from Molly's face, "_Ronald Weasley_,"

There was a sudden clamor followed by a yelp; Tonks was sprawled across the floor in the entryway, Remus crouching next to her, "Nymphadora, are you alright?"

"She's fine, Molly, just tripped over the doorstep is all," Remus explained while helping the pink-haired Auror to stand.

"Hello, hello, Hermione's safe and sound." Tonks proclaimed, "Wotcher Harry," She winked, "I always come through on my promises."

"Is that dinner I smell?" Remus sniffed, covertly motioning to Hermione to make her escape.

Hermione took the hint, smiling gratefully at the lycan before slowly creeping up the stairs, opting to leave Salazar to his own devices for being such a ponce. She sauntered down the second floor hallway and into a guest bedroom she often lodged in on her visits to Number Twelve. Making quick work of divesting herself of the loaned robe, she drapped it across the bed where her trunk awaited her, at the end. She shuffled through the many books and personal potions supplies to retrieve a change of clothes. Shutting the lid and replacing the lock, she turned to leave in search of the bathroom. The sight of Salazar casually leaning against the doorframe made her jump in fright, hitting her knee against the side of her trunk in the process.

"That was not very nice of you, leaving me to the dogs like that." He frowned.

"Yes, well, I believe your snarky behavior was justification enough." She massaged her knee.

"Hardly, I was simply...offering commentary." He walked over to the bed and took a seat.

"Some commentary should be kept to youself." She snapped, "The majority of people here aren't exactly Slytherin-friendly."

She watched as he kicked off his boots and stretched out across the blue comforter, hands cushioning his head, "So I've gathered."

"Finding you _here_ like _that_ won't help matters either." Hermione scowled.

He smirked, "Oh, how so?"

Hermione tinged pink, "Just get out."

* * *

Hermione located the master bathroom on the third floor and shut the door softly behind her before warding it. Placing her clothes by the sink, she began tugging off her current attire before drawing a bath. She dipped her hand into the water and the warmth sent delightful tingles up her arm. She browsed the various bottles of scented oil resting on the edge of the tub, finally deciding on lavender. The master bathroom was used regularly by the other members of the Order, as such, Molly made sure it was well stocked. She slipped one foot into the water and gradually eased herself in. She sat for a while, letting the heat relax her tired muscles before tackling her hair.

She scrubbed herself clean, wallowing in the water until it went from lukewarm to room temperature. Then, she reluctantly climbed out and proceeded to dry herself off. She was in no hurry, however. Exiting the confines of the bathroom meant stepping into reality and she was not ready to deal with that just yet. Hermione wrung the remaining water out of her hair into the sink and started the arduous process of combing through the mass of knots. Several pulls and muttered 'ow's later, she gave up and settled for half-tamed curls.

Slipping into her change of clothes- a pair of red flannel pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt- unfortunately the only casual clothing she had left in her trunk. The rest was likely still in the laundry at Hogwarts, as loath as she was to contribute to the massive list of chores that the Houselves willingly undertook on a daily basis. They were insistant little things and she could not deny them when they pleaded at her with their big bug eyes. Hermione made a note to inquire if the rest of her wardrobe may be retrieved.

She entered her room expecting to be greeted by the unwelcome sight of Salazar still making himself at home on her bed. Suprisingly enough, the room was vacant. An imprint of the man's body in the comforter was the only proof that he had ever been in there in the first place. A niggling feeling in the back of her mind poked at her to make sure the prat was staying out of trouble and so, she found herself venturing downstairs.

Hermione crept over toward the cracked doors that led into the dining room and peeked in. Black eyes zeroed in on her instantly and, while she had been relieved at the sight of her former Potions Master at the table, she cursed the man for his next words.

"It would appear that we have company." He alerted the others to her presence and whatever conversation that had been going on before she had been caught ceased.

"Come in, Hermione." Remus' voice urged.

She did so, abashedly. Salazar eyed her over his cup of tea...tea? Salazar Slytherin was sipping tea at a table where Remus Lupin and Severus Snape sat opposite him...surrealism? Hermione shook her head and sat in the nearest chair stiffly. The hot water stirred her too-tired muscles and she was extremely sore as a result. Salazar stared at her and she found herself staring back challengingly. He quirked an eyebrow in response and grinned.

"Professor Snape, sir," She shifted in her chair awkwardly, "I owe you my thanks."

Severus dismissed her with a wave of his hand, "Hardly, Miss Granger. Do not attempt to soften me up, not when the result of your recklessness is sitting at this very table with us."

"Ah," Her mouth was set in a firm line; they wasted no time, did they?

"It is going to take a while to sink in. Everyone is still in a bit of shock." Remus massaged the back of his neck.

"Care to explain to me what has happened to the Wizarding world in my absence?" Salazar felt he had been patient enough.

Lupin and Snape exchanged looks, "I do not think that wise." Snape concluded.

"You cannot expect me to take 'no' for an answer."

"It is a risk we can afford to take."

Hermione recognized the look on the founder's face, "He's a Legilimens." She blurted. The look Salazar sent her was murderous.

Snape seemed pleased at the news, "Indeed? I do remember reading as such. Your skill is wasted on me. Should you decide to respect our conditions," He went on, "well, what we cannot afford is _another_ liability on our hands."

"He deserves to know." Hermione interrupted quietly.

"So you _do_ have some inkling of sensibility in you." Salazar remarked appreciatively.

Snape recognized the comment for the provokation that it was. Salazar Slytherin was _teasing_ Hermione Granger. The Potions Master felt sick, "Miss Granger, I do believe that fall you took has caused a lapse in your judgement, but then again that is to suggest you even had any in the first place."

"Severus, must you be so harsh?" Remus appeared startled.

Salazar was apt to agree, if only for the sake of the girl having spoken up in his defense. A mudblood she may be, but she was still just a _girl_... He caught Snape appraising him, "Seeing as how Miss Granger appears to have been so steadfast in her decision, we will aquiesce to your request." Hermione gaped at Snape's words, "Bear in mind, though, when he decides to abdicate us in the future, it will be on your head, Granger."

Hermione grimaced.

"You left quite the _legacy_, sir," Snape commenced, "-and it is that very same legacy that has been an acute source of grief for Wizarding society for over two decades."

She was only able to suffer half of the "debriefing" before excusing herself and sprinting up the stairs. Once inside the safety of her room, she sunk into the bed and cried herself into a light sleep.

* * *

Salazar had listened intently throughout the entire hour it took the man to relate the history of the past twenty-plus years. In the end, he couldn't help but be a bit cynical, "So, my heir is a half-blood abomination?" Oh, the irony was just too much.

"Is that really all you have to say after everything we've just disclosed?" Remus bit out hostily, the full moon was only a week away.

"You forget whom it is we're talking to, Lupin." Snape smiled darkly.

"Forgive me, I just find the irony amusing." Salazar digressed, "My prejudice doesn't go unwarranted. Times were different. Perhaps I will explain it to you further in the future, but for now, if you will kindly excuse me," he stood up, "I bid you gentlemen goodnight."

He left the two men behind and started for the stairs, running into the so-called Boy-Who-Lived on the way up, "It is all very curious," He eyed the lightning bolt scar that lit across the boy's forehead, "a half-blood my pathetic-excuse-for-an-heir may be, but he is still ultimately _my_ heir. To think, a mere boy could have thwarted such power..."

Harry was still getting used to the idea that the newest resident of Number Twelve was Salazar Slytherin. His affinity for Slytherins was no secret, and this man really was not helping matters, "Apparently it must not be much of a 'power' then." He countered.

Salazar sneered, "Yes, well, cross-breeding with muggles can do that, or so it would appear. Magic was never meant for mudbloods."

Harry's expression darkened considerably, "I advise against using that word so casually around here."

"Maybe for _her_ sake, I will take that into consideration, eh boy?" Salazar retorted suggestively.

Harry's sinewy frame shook in unbriddled rage, but before he could get another word in, Salazar slipped up the stairs and down the second floor corridor.

* * *

Hermione woke with a start. A creak in the floorboards near her bed set her heart racing. She lay on her side, back to the door which she had conveniently forgot to close before she fell asleep- convenient for whomever was currently creeping into her room in the middle of the night, anyway. She slipped her hand slowly beneath her pillow and retrieved her wand. There was another creak and she was up in a flash, wand aimed a mere few inches from the face of her would-be-assailant.

She was able to discern his features thanks to the dim torchlight illuminating the hallway, "What is your problem; coming into a woman's room at odd hours of the night! Oh, wait, hold that thought, I almost forgot, Slytherin; there probably isn't a single moral fiber in your body." She spat, "I could have killed you!"

Salazar chuckled in the darkness, "I highly doubt that, though I'm surprised you are so concerned about my well-being all of a sudden, I didn't know you cared."

"I really don't." She retracted her wand.

"I require a moment of your time." He made himself comfortable, sitting on the edge of the bed.

The audacity! "Now is really not a good time, so if you wouldn't mind-"

"Do shut up, witch, and let me speak."

"How dare you! You've the nerve to disturb me in the middle of the night, and then presume to, to-!"

"In my time, Muddles had the tendency to fear that which they could not understand." He spoke, effectively silencing her, "My people," he paused, "_our_ people, were persecuted for something they had little to no control over, by their own families no less. It was my belief that those with muggle affiliations not be introduced to magic in order to protect the current inhabitants of the magical world from further persecution. Call me prejudiced if you must, but I stand by my ideology. It was all too soon, the world was not ready for such knowledge. Neither was the Wizarding world."

"And what was to become of 'those with muggle affiliations' had your plans succeded? Surely you realized that many would have eventually been discovered and destroyed?" Hermione waited expectantly.

"A loss for a life. In the end, I served a higher purpose- the preservation of my kind."

She had already known the answer, deep down. His methods were not unlike those implicated by others in the past, "It's still the same, you know." She found herself mumbling, "Muggles still fear what they cannot rationally explain. It is human nature, yet, here we are today, you and I, in a Wizarding world where, despite the Dark Lord, mudbloods, half-bloods and a select number of purebloods, function as a society. Your intentions were noble, I suppose, in a warped sense."

The girl was wise beyond her years, "Yes, and to think it possible to further pervert something that was already so debauched to begin with." He conceded.

Hermione was astonished, to say the least.

"You know, you are the first mudblood who's company I have shared, willingly?" He eyed her sillouhette, "I find it rather entertaining."

She didn't know what to make of his words, "I wonder, are you as..._stimulating _in all your daily endeavors." He prodded, that did the trick, "You lecherous- Get out!" She aimed a pillow at him.

He laughed, "You are far too easy to aggravate, my dear."

Hermione could _hear_ the smirk in his voice and launched the piece of bedding at him. He chuckled, dodging it easily and ducking out of the room. Hermione let him go, flopping back down onto the mattress feeling strangely at ease, more so than she had ever felt, at least for a long time anyway. For the first time in months, sleep came easy to her.

* * *

**End Note**: I write this a mere two hours after completing D.H. and am very emotionally drained. So many deaths, I fear I've run out of tears to spill.

A moment of silence for all humans and creatures that perished under JKR's quill…

Edit:

Title Credit goes to Right or Ryn. A very witty idea, my dear, and again, I thank you for it…

Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5: Sun is in the Sky, Oh Why, Oh Why?**

"Should we wake her up?"

Hermione stirred in her sleep at the sound, "I don't know mate, you know how she gets in the morning."

"It's nearly noon, though." Ron whispered; the two boys stared down at the sleeping female, debating whether or not to stir her.

She rolled over, "No one can get any sleep with you two around." she grumbled groggily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and sitting up to stretch.

Ron snorted and she glanced at him suspiciously, "What?"

"With a mane like that, you could pass off as Lestrange."

Hermione scowled, patting down her hair. She'd forgotten to braid it the night before. She pulled herself out of bed and walked across the room to inspect the damage in a mirror. Indeed, she could _almost_ pull off the deranged witch's look. Her hair was in complete disaray. Ignoring the sniggers, she pulled her hair back with one hand and dug through her trunk with the other in search of a hair tie. She secured the mass of curls before turning her attention to the pair whom had already made themselves comfortable on her bed. It was becoming a regular occurance lately, men inviting themselves onto her bed without even asking. It was rather irksome. She would have to break that nasty little habit if it persisted.

"So, Slytherin, eh?" Ron initiated.

She sighed, "Could we finish this conversation _after_ I've located a suitable change of clothing?"

"I suppose," Ron fiddled absentmindely with a stray thread protruding from the sheet.

Hermione waited, "_Well...?" _she crossed her arms over her chest when they had yet to vacate the premises.

_"_Huh? Oh! She wants us to leave Harry." Harry smiled knowingly at his friend, "After six years of best-friendship, I think we're entitled to a peek, right mate?" Ron suggested.

Hermione's jaw dropped, "What?" He shrugged innocently. "I'm only joking, Mione."

"Oh, out with you both!" She ordered.

* * *

He often rose with the sun, despite all the late nights spent grading papers or working on his personal endeavors. So, when he awoke to broad daylight, he was astonished. He inhaled the stale air deeply. It was truly an amazing phenonmena; life. How long had it been since he had weathered a thunderstorm, felt the electricity in the atmosphere just before the sky erupted in brilliant flashes, felt the biting chill of winter after the first snow? Too long, he determined. He stared at the clouds of dust circling in the light that permeated through the cracks in the curtains. Before long, there was a knock at the door. Salazar ignored it and shut his eyes.

The door creaked open, "So dark," Salazar pretended to be asleep, despite the intruder.

The curtains were flung open and sunlight filled the room. Salazar jerked up iin surprise identifying the source of his disturbance. Helga Hufflepuff's red-headed doppelganger was bent over retrieving a pillow from the floor. Before he could protest, she tugged the comforter off the bed and proceeded to dust it. Left with nothing but a thin sheet to shield himself, he gathered the bed linen and held on to it for dear life incase the woman decided to commandeer that from him as well.

"Madame, if you wouldn't mind stepping out for a moment so that I may don my robes."

Molly Weasley smiled warmly, "Don't fret deary." She set down a pile of clothing at the end of the bed, "You're looking at the mother of six, strapping lads. You ain't got anything I haven't seen before." She clucked, "Now let's have a look at you." Molly grabbed the sheet and pulled; Salazar fumbled stupidly to retrieve it, failing miserably.

Perhaps sleeping in the nude hadn't been such a good idea after all, he eventually concluded while clenching a pillow to the lower half of his body.

"Silly little man," he heard her mumbled, folding the coverlet against her body, "Try those on, will you?" She gestured toward the new set of clothing.

He eyed them, "Thank you, but my own robes will do just fine."

"Nonsense," she swept up the old-fashioned clothing in her arms, "You'd stick out like a sore thumb. Hurry up, now." She turned her back to him.

When it became apparent that the woman had no intentions of going anywhere, Salazar reluctantly lifted the first article, inspecting it critically. It was a solid blue, button-up shirt, comfortable at best, he admitted to himself when slipping an arm through one of the sleeves. He waisted no time examining the dismal pair of trousers and slid into them. Surely this was not actually considered _fashionable? _The material was so thin, _light_, but thin nonetheless. It did not look capable of providing much protection from the cold. It was peasant attire, it had to be. No self-respecting witch or wizard would be caught wearing such unconventional clothing.

Molly interpreted the lengthy silence as a sign that he was done, "A bit short, you're quite tall." She assessed, popping the buttons into their respective holes, "You're a fine looking lad, aren't you? Must've been real popular with the ladies." She chortled.

Salazar said nothing and remained stock-still as she fretted over the shirt collar. She extracted her wand and with a flick, adjusted the length. She took a step back to admire her work before loosening the top few bottoms on the shirt and sweeping her hands over his shoulders, smoothing out the creases. She did one final appraisel of his person. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stared at his head. She circled around him, pausing at his back, lifting a few inky black strands of hair.

"Yes, something must definately be done about your hair, it is far too long."

He rounded on her, "My hair is at a desired length."

"Not for this day and age. It will have to be trimmed sometime in the future."

"Sometime in the future it is then," He hastily agreed so that she would leave him alone.

Molly nodded affirmatively, and scampered off to find something else that needed her tending to. He was grateful when she'd gone. She was a pushy little force-to-be-wreckened with. Her personality was even akin to the boisterus female founder of his past. He could recall being bullyed out of bed on more than one occasion by the woman. Helga had taken it upon herself to care for the three of them, Rowena, Gryffindor, and himself. She always brewed a cauldron full of gruel when any one of them had fallen ill. She was the one whom made sure they woke up to a hearty breakfast every morning. The woman had even gone as far as to bake him a pile of sweet biscuits every year in celebration of his Birth Day. He missed her, he missed all of them, even Gryffindor. As loath as he was to admit it, the man did prove useful as a sparring partner.

Salazar sighed. If he was left to his own devises for much longer he was afraid he would sink into a depression. So, he set out for his current means of distraction.

* * *

Hermione scrutinized herself self-consciencously. She'd had to resort to borrowing a pair of khaki shorts from Ginny and altering the size. Her jeans were still in the wash and in dire need of repair after the abuse they had undergone. She really needed to get her clothes back or risk having to live off Ginny's wardrobe for the remaineder of the break. The idea was not at all pleasant. She was too absorbed in her own thoughts to notice a certain unwanted individual slip into her room.

"Parading around in one's undergarments can hardly be considered appropriate, even in this time- correct me if I am wrong." Salazar couldn't contain himself from staring appreciatively at the sight of so much exposed skin.

She didn't have to bother with turning around to know whom was speaking, "Damn, and here I thought you were just a bad dream."

"It would seem you were mistaken." He walked up behind her.

"For your information, _sir_, this happens to be perfectly acceptable, er, _Spring_ attire." She responded, facing him and finding herself staring at a deep shade of blue.

He grinned and turned away, "If such is the case, I shudder to think of what _does_ constitute as undergarments these days." he paused for good measure, "Now, whether it is in disgust or delight, I have yet to determine."

Hermione's face cringed in revulsion and she began to tidy up the bed, "I am sure there is a spell you can cast to do that for you." He watched as she fluffed a pillow.

She rolled her eyes at the haughtyness in the man's voice, "I can manage just as easily on my own." She replied curtly, "That's the thing about magic; it makes people forget that their hands are capable of more than just flicking around a wand."

"I am incapable of deciding whether you are idiotic or merely insane."

"Fortunately, I cannot say the same, you, sir, are most definately an ar-" She was cut off abruptly when Ginny suddenly appeared in the doorway.

"Hey Mione, Mum asked me to come up and ask if you wanted her to mend your trousers," Ginny stared her friend at the founder across the room, approvingly, "Are those...Sirius'?"

Hermione nibbled at her lower lip in worry, "Harry is going to have a fit when he finds out."

She settled onto the bed and Ginny came over to sit next to her, "Maybe I can filch him one of Fred or George's quidditch t-shirts."

Hermione laughed, "Thanks Gin, but I doubt raiding your brothers' closet is a good idea. I wouldn't want to be at their mercy for stealing one of their favorite shirts."

Ginny shrugged, "Alright…now, about your jeans…"

"Yes, it would be much appreciated." She replied thankfully.

Ginny smiled, patted her friend's hand, and departed, leaving the perturbed witch alone once more with the source of her annoyance. She ran a hand through her semi-tamed curls with a sigh and watched the man as he perused the bedroom, lifting stray objects to examine them and flipping through a book she had left out on top of her trunk. He skimmed the first few pages, absorbed in the text. She let him be, taking advantage of his momentary distraction and the silence that accompanied it. She stared at him curiously, noticing the furrow in his brow when he came upon something particular in his reading. She wondered what it was that he was so engrossed in. She peered at the bookcover; _Wuthering Heights_. The desire to laugh outright was intense. She dared not say anything.

He shut the book, "Who is Sirius?"

She considered her next words, "Harry's godfather. He was killed two years ago...by a follower of the Dark Lord." It had been a difficult time for all of them, Harry's pain was her pain. She hated to see her dear friend suffering.

Moving on, "There are more of those," She gestured toward the book in his hand, "-in a small study downstairs, historical texts. You can catch up on what you've missed, for the most part. I also have some textbooks from school in my trunk on Potions, Ancient Runes..." She trailed off.

"I'd prefer to start with the study,"

"Yes, of course, uh, follow me." She ushered him out of the room, refraining from commenting on the fact that he still carried her copy of _Wuthering Heights_ in his grasp.

* * *

"Any news from Minerva?" Remus inquired over his copy of the Daily Prophet.

Snape glowered; he despised being disturbed whilst in the middle of brewing a potion, "She owled me earlier, said she would be arriving sometime later this evening by floo. The healers suggested against Apparation due to her state of health."

Lupin flipped a page noisily, "So, who will have the honor of explaining our current predicament?" _Hint, hint..._

After a brief moment of stiff silence, Snape yielded, "Oh very well...you owe me, _wolf_."

Lupin chuckled, "Of course," he smiled victoriously, "- next bottle of firewhiskey."

"Next _three_ bottles," Snape interjected crankily.

Remus nodded at the man dismissively, "News of the evacuation has already made headlines."

The sound of raised voices erupted from outside the dinning room and the two men glanced at eachother, "Minerva..." Snape reminded, returning to his potion.

Remus frowned, rising from his seat unenthusiastically and walked off to investigate.

* * *

"Harry, be reasonable," Hermione pleaded with her friend.

"How can you even _ask _that of me? Hermione, he's wearing _his_ clothes!" He glared at Salazar with furious green eyes.

Hermione flinched at the boy's tone. It was the first time she had ever found herself on the recieving end of Harry's temper. She knew that he would be upset, but then again, perhaps _upset_ had been an understatement. Harry looked murderous. The moment he set eyes on Salazar, there was that look of recognition, realization, and then pure unadulterated rage. She thought for a moment that he might even curse the man, had she not stepped in the way.

"Last I knew, it is not considered very gentlemanly for a man to raise his voice at a young woman." Salazar remarked.

Harry, blinded by anger, did not think his next words through, "Oh, how very _noble_ of you, you bloody snake!" He spat, "Think you'll slip into everyone's good graces by defending a mudblood?"

Hermione tensed, her grip on the banister so tight that her knuckles went white at the strain, "Harry!" Ron stared at his bestmate incredulously.

Harry blanched.

"What's going on in here?" Remus eyed the scene before him, bewildered.

Hermione's gaze flickered between him and Harry before she shuffled down the stairs and stalked off. Harry's eyes were downcast. Lupin stared at Salazar expectanyl in hopes that the man would divulge what had just occured.

Reading the look on the sandy-haired man's face, Salazar spoke, "A minor disagreement over my attire. A few harsh words were exchanged." He stated, "If you would kindly point me in the direction of the study so that I may find the girl before she decides to do something reckless."

"Through the parlor," Remus directed, too confused; Salazar nodded in thanks and followed after the furious female.

Hermione paced angrily, waiting. She prayed to every diety in her knowledge that Harry Potter would come through that door and when he did she would be ready, ceramic vase gripped tightly in her hand. She didn't even bother to confirm that the person currently pushing the door open was him, she just hurled the thing with all her might. It shot across the room before coming to a shattering hault. Her eyes widened. A barrier had erected itself over Salazar whose hand was currently poised in the air. The vase expoloded against the shield, littering the floor of the study.

The shield dissapated, "Merlin, woman! What is your problem!" He bellowed.

"You bloody prat! You can do wandless, wordless, magic!" She summoned another vase, pointing at him with her wand accusatorily.

At least she didn't look like she'd been crying, he was not well-versed in the consolation of distraught woman, "Yes, what of it?" he cowerd, debating whether or not he'd rather be dealing with a blubbering twit than an angry lioness.

"_What of it_?" She repeated, "Stealing my wand in the Chamber was hardly necessary! Why did you not say anything?"

"It was none of your concern. I didn't want to frighten you and risk you doing something moronic! Now, would you please cease fire!"

"_Moronic_! I'll show _you _moronic!" She raised the vase threateningly over her head.

He dodged the second vase in one fluid movement, "Will you _please!_" The girl froze at the request and he was silently thanking Merling that he had managed to get her to stop assailing him with pottery.

Her knees buckled and she sunk into a chair, eyes watering, "I hate you," She muttered, "I hate you for inventing that horrid word."

Salazar felt strangely, like he had been kneed in the gut, "I know."

Neither of them spoke for the longest time. Hermione sulked to herself. Salazar continued to read in _Wuthering Heights_ where he had left off, albeit half-heartedly. This prompted her to stare at him again. She examined him more thoroughly this time, from the pale palor of his skin to the slight stubble that had sprouted along his jawline. He wasn't half as grotesque-looking as all the history books suggested. In fact, quite the contrary, he was rather handsome. The admission made her frown.

"How old are you?" The question caught Salazar off guard, "Physically, I mean." She embellished.

"Twenty-eight years of age." He answered, shutting the book, "Why do you ask?"

"How old were you when you, er," For lack of a better word, "_died_?"

"One hundred seventy-eight."

"Why twenty-eight?" She inquired further.

An inquisitive little thing, she was, "Magic is a fickle thing. I can only think of one reason particular to this age; a twenty-eight, I was in my magical prime." He stood up, "However, if you like to believe in that load of trallop called Divination, all things happen for a reason."

Hermione smirked, "A load of trallop, indeed." She watched him pull a book from a shelf, "You should have mentioned your abilities to Lupin and Snape."

Salazar reshelved the book, "Does that mean you intend to open that pretty little mouth of yours again?" He noticed her wand hand twitch and grinned, "Be still girl, have I honestly given you reason not to trust me in the slightest? I could have easily snapped your neck and left you to rot down in the Chamber if I had so wished it."

She could not help but agree and willed herself to relax. Before she had time to blink, he was before her, her own wand poised in his grip, aimed against her, "There is never a moments peace during times of war. You must always be prepared. You loose your wand, consider your life as good as lost, as well." He lectured.

Salazar felt a surge of magical energy hit him square in the stomach and he was knocked to the floor, Hermione's wand flew out of his hand and landed back into its mistress' outstretched palm.

She stood over his form, beaming, "What was that about always being prepared?"

He coughed, groaning, "Gryffindor, was it? I beg to differ..." The witch seemed to reserve secrets of her own. Perhaps he'd been mistaken in his assemssment of her. _Sorely mistaken_, he mused when he tried to get up, abdominal muscles protesting in pain.

"You assumed, _correctly_, but still..."

"Could have fooled me," He grumbled, "Why did you not use _your_ abilites to retrieve you wand?" It was his turn to ask the questions.

"I didn't want to frighten you." She parroted his earlier answer, though it was a blatant lie. She had been so out of her mind and concerned about escaping at the time that she had flat out forgotten.

He rolled his eyes and pulled another book off the shelf, "I wonder, shall we consider your resurection day a second birthday?" She asked, absently.

Salazar shook his head in disbelief, "I suppose," He agreed.

"The fourteenth of December, it is then." She recited.

"Hmm…why do you ask?"

"So that when this war is over and word gets out about you, I can at least make sure that the history books are recorded correctly, this time around." She replied cheekily.

He smiled.

* * *

**End Note**: Don't you just want to hug Molly? Harry is so angst-y…and just plain stupid. I wonder what dear old Sal is trying to cover up, if anything at all. Who knows…Hermione could just be looking into things too deeply.

Another moment of silence, this time for all the vases that suffered Hermione's wrath in this chapter.

A cookie to anyone who can guess what's so significant about the date December 14th…other than in this story, I mean.

Review, Review, REVIEW! Please…I love hearing from you guys.

Toodles!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6: Here Kitty, Kitty**

The majority of the day was spent in he study while Salazar caught up on the times and Hermione simply...kept him company. They sat in relative silence for the most part, at least until Salazar would pose a question on a particular subject, at which point she would explain to the best of her ability. Afterwards he would nod in understanding and continue reading, leaving Hermione to her own devices. Though she had a book nestled in her lap, her eyes would occasionally stray. She wondered if he realized that he completely let his guard down when absorbed in a book. It made _her_ wonder if she did the same.

"It is impolite to stare."

She hadn't realized she'd been doing so, "Oh, well... you'll be glad to know that I wasn't staring at you, then." She replied unconvincingly.

Without even looking up, "What is it that has you so enraptured that you are required to stare in my direction?"

He did insist on dragging out her humiliation, didn't he? "Nothing in particular, actually. Only that Christmas, the Yuletide, is in little over a week's time and I've yet to purchase any gifts."

Salazar said nothing more and Hermione allowed her gaze to roam once more, eyeing the clock on the wall whose pendulum swung hypnotically. It was already three-thirty eight. Where had the day gone? She rose from her seat and stretched, shelving her book. The accompanying sound of a chair scraping against the floor made her turn. Salazar had compiled a stack of books on the table, shrinking the pile with a mere wave of his hand and depositing them into a pocket.

"Is there any food? I require sustenance."

His words made her realize how hungry she was, having failed to eat anything the night before."I suppose I could ask Mrs. Weasley to whip up something, or I could-"

"I'd rather Miss Molly do it, you're likely to poison me." He sneered.

Hermione glared at the man as he strode from the room. She followed, imagining all the ways she _could_ poison him, entertaining the thought of belladonna in his tea.

The sitting room was empty and the house itself unusually quiet aside from the fire crackling in the hearth. _Where is everyone? _Everyone meaning, well, _everyone_, other than Harry, of course. He really could be such a prat. Hermione moved on ahead of the man until she saw a smear of orange out of the corner of her eye.

Salazar had to stumble to a halt to avoid colliding with the girl at her abrupt change in course. He was about to enlighten her on his current state of annoyance when he noticed an orange mass of fur padding across the floor towards them.

"Crookshanks!" She squealed, sweeping the creature up off the ground.

"What in Merlin's name is _that_?" Salazar stared into the feline's golden eyes and could've sworn they had flickered in condemnation.

Hermione huffed in offense, "This, is Crookshanks, my familiar. Crookshanks, this is Salazar- _presumptuous, insufferable, egotistic _…" Crookshanks looked at her with a bored expression as if to say _I think I get the point, _"-Slytherin. A man who, obviously, cannot recognize a _cat_ when he sees one. I think he may have been reborn minus a few brain cells, so you must forgive him, he doesn't know any better." She continued, petting the cat lovingly.

"If anyone here is 'minus a few brain cells' it is _you, " _he retorted, "I'm not the one carrying on a conversation with an animal." Salazar crossed his arms over his chest, affronted.

"And did I mention chronically cranky?" Hermione cooed and nuzzled the cat's nose with her own.

The creature mewled, nudging the girl's cheek. Salazar wrinkled his nose in distaste at the sight. He'd never been overly fond of felines, at least not the _docile_ kind. They were frightful little creatures, scurrying about the castle at odd hours of the night.

"Ah, Miss Granger, I see you've found your pet."

Hermione glanced up at the sound of her Head of House's voice, "Professor!" The woman smiled warmly at the girl before turning her attention toward the figure looming in the background.

McGonagall smirked, "And you must be Lord Salazar. Yes, I've heard about you. I can't say I'm honored to make your acquaintance. Forgive me; I've never been a big fan of your house."

Hermione choked back her laughter. Salazar appeared unwavered, but something gave her the impression that he was not as composed internally. McGonagall tended to have that affect on people, particularly Slytherins for some reason. It was an admirable trait.

Salazar would have to watch his words around the old hag, she looked ready to stun him at the slightest, "My apologies Madame, and allow me to take responsibility for whatever past offenses my students have caused."

"As well as you should," She replied, waspishly. "Trust me when I say the list is _quite_ long."

Hermione was enjoying herself immensely and was making a blatant show of it, too.

The old bat morphed before his very eyes, "Hermione, dear, I had your things brought over, " She patted the ginger cat cradled in Hermione's arms, "Your personal items are up in your room."

"Thank you, Professor." Her mood brightened considerably at the news.

Placing Crookshanks carefully on the floor, she started towards the kitchen, Salazar trailed close behind trying to get as far away from McGonagall as possible.

The woman cleared her throat and the two halted, "I'll be keeping an eye on _you_, turkey, so don't think to try anything because I'll be watching."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Salazar reassured.

"Um, Professor, where are the others?" Hermione inquired from her position behind the man.

"Mrs. Weasley and Ginny went to retrieve the twins. Severus and Lupin accompanied them," McGonagall disclosed, "Mr. Potter and Weasley are upstairs."

Hermione thanked the woman once more and disappeared into the kitchen. Salazar watched her pick her way through the cupboards for a minute before sitting at the table in the dining room, sinking his teeth into a green apple he had snatched off the counter. She appeared shortly after, bowl in hand, spoon in the other. She sat down opposite him. Salazar eyed the contents of the dish curiously. She caught him and proceeded to offer him some. She slid the bowl across the table toward him, summoning an extra spoon. He eyed the colorful rings carefully before finally scooping a spoonful into his mouth. Salazar's face darkened.

"I do not know how you are capable of eating that," he shoved the bowl back across the table,"- it's far too sweet. I about gagged just now. It's disgusting."

She laughed, "How can you _not_ like them? They are absolutely fantastic."

"I've never had an affinity for sweets."

"Hmm, why doesn't that surprise me?" She said mildly.

He scoffed and bit harshly into the apple, snapping his fingers making the apple core vanish.

"Showoff…" She muttered, leaving to dispose of her bowl in the kitchen.

He smirked.

"I'm going upstairs to unpack, I _suppose_ you could come with." she shouted out to him.

His smirk widened, "Hmm, I don't know, sounds terrifically _dull_."

She narrowed her eyes at him upon returning, "As if you have anything better to do other than loaf around and pester me into oblivion."

"Very true, my dear, very true, ladies first." He rose from his seat, holding the dining room door open for her. She eyed him suspiciously before ducking under his arm and trudging up the stairs.

Hermione's freshly laundered clothes rested in a pile on her bed and she made quick work of shoving them into the bureau, lest Salazar catch a glimpse of something he shouldn't have.

While she was distracted pulling open dresser drawers, he opened the lid of her trunk in search of the textbooks she had mentioned earlier. It was then that he happened upon a stack of photographs. He reached in and grabbed one of the moving pictures. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before. It was as if someone had simply reached into a pensieve, plucked out a memory, and stuck it on parchment. The image was so vividly clear. The girl smiled back at him from in the portrait. Her face was slightly fuller and hair frizzier. She must have been younger, he gathered. She cradled the ginger-haired feline in her arms while the cat yawned, bushy tail swishing in obvious irritation. "Pick of the Litter" was printed along the top half of the frame.

"A fine choice to be sure…" He remarked sarcastically.

"What was that?" Hermione called over her shoulder.

He set the photo down and went to examine another one. It was a portrait of a man and a woman, cradling an infant whose hands were grasping at a pearl necklace draped around her neck.

"Your parents, I presume?" He asked.

She squinted at him from where she stood folding clothes and nodded. He eyed the picture once more, she had her father's eyes. The door cracked open and Crookshanks jumped onto the bed, freezing to stare at the man. His tail twitched and he settled down to bath himself after determining the man of no threat to his mistress.

"There is something unique about your cat."

"Oh, he's not really a cat, he's a half-breed." Crookshanks paused his licking to meow in protest at the term.

Hermione didn't show any sign of surprise, "I'm sorry Crooks. I know you don't appreciate being called that, but it is true, silly creature."

Salazar watched the exchange, "After much deliberation, I've come to the conclusion that you are indeed ill in the head."

"For Merlin's sake, the cat is part Kneazle."

"Ah, well that explains it then. If you had mentioned that before…"

"I was about to, "She interrupted, "You just couldn't keep your mouth shut long enough for me to finish."

Salazar observed the animal. He couldn't recall coming across such a creature, despite his knowledge of their existence. In his readings he'd learned that they tended to inter-breed with domestic felines and that they were known to be very temperamental and intelligent, which would explain those seemingly all-knowing eyes. Another detail came to mind; 'if the creature were attracted to a witch or wizard it could be domesticated and kept as a pet', a rare occurrence, but one that certainly explained the situation.

He glanced at the cat, "Fancy your mistress, do you?"

Crookshanks chose that moment to yawn, making a big display of the fangs lining his mouth.

Salazar smirked and flicked his wrist. The covers were tugged from beneath the feline so fast that the cat tipped over and off the side of the bed with a screech. He landing safely on his feet, hissing at a the founder.

Hermione jumped at the shrill sound. Crookshanks padded over to her mewling and slithered around her ankles until she picked him up.

Murderous intent welled up in her eyes as she glowered at Salazar, "What did you do to my cat?"

He shrugged innocently, pretending to be reading.

Crookshanks mewled pitifully and she fussed over the cat, kissing the creature on the nose, "Keep this in mind next time you try to injure my cat. McGonagall is the transfiguration professor at Hogwarts and she taught me well. If you insist on acting like a snake I can sure as hell make you look like one, too."

The cat stared smugly at the man and made sure he was watching when he meowed and licked his mistress' cheek in thanks. Hermione giggled and patted her pet on the head before placing him back on the floor.

Salazar's jaw dropped slightly at the sight. He was being provoked…by a cat. The silly creature thought to make him jealous. _How utterly absurd_, he thought to himself. His eyes darted toward Hermione. He was elated to see her distracted once more. He intended to exact his revenge on the feline. Glancing back once more to make sure she wasn't looking, Salazar searched for Crookshanks. Upon locating the cat a few feet away, he grinned widely. Crookshanks sat in the middle of the floor eyeing him challengingly, and well…Salazar was never one to back down from a challenge, consequences be damned.

The cat howled in terror when it was suddenly levitated off the floor, hissing and spluttering. Seeing the ball of fur hovering in midair was truly a sight to behold. Salazar chuckled; completely disregarding Hermione's earlier warning and started to jerk the cat around.

"Salazar Slytherin, stop that at once or I swear I'll make good on my promise and once you're a snake, I'll skin you myself." She threatened.

He rolled his eyes and with another jerk, the cat was dropped to the floor. It hissed in his direction and ran out of the room after he'd hissed right back.

"He started it."

She just stared at him slack-jawed,"You are trying to pin this…on a _cat_?"

"He is not a cat, he is a _Kneazle_."

"You dare patronize _me _after you have the gall to sit there and blame my cat?" She snapped at him

Salazar shrugged and picked up another book. The stupid feline deserved it, mocking him like that. The creature was practically begging for punishment. The only thing he regretted was getting caught, now he had to listen to the silly little chit's non-stop babbling.

"What did Crookshanks ever do to you? Where do you get off picking on innocent animals?"

He was so close to casting a silencing charm on her but the niggling reminder that she possessed the same abilities as him made him think twice. The founder inhaled and settled for an attempt at distraction, one that would put his physical well-being in moderate danger, but so be it. She was going on about modern day society's laws regarding animal abuse and punishments including imprisonment, but he was too focused on successfully shutting her up without injuring himself.

"I could get you locked up for what you just did…what are you doing?"

Hermione took a step, or rather stumbled, back when Salazar started towards her, grinning impishly. He advanced on her and she found herself at a loss for words as vivid images of their interlude back at the castle shuffled through her mind. She felt the edge of the dresser digging into her back. He reached out to her just as he had done in the darkness of the chamber and yet again, she was incapable of moving away. Her mind went blank and her pulse jumped. His hand came to rest on the dresser's on her right, the other taking its place to the left, successfully trapping her.

"By George, George, what have we stumbled upon here?"

"I don't know Fred, looks like…"

Hermione squeaked. Of all people…

"…our delicate flower was about to be…" Fred smirked.

"…plucked." George finished in his brother's place.

Salazar sighed, was there no privacy in this place? He turned to see a pair of twins, one individual resting on opposite sides of the doorframe. Judging by the red hair he assumed the two were part of Molly's litter. Trouble-makers by the looks of them, insinuating that he was trying to corrupt her virtue like that.

"F-Fred, G-George, welcome back," She maneuvered herself out of the small space after Salazar had dropped an arm and crossed the room over to the two.

"Don't try to…" George shook a finger at her.

"…change the subject." Fred interjected.

The twins smiled down at her, "I know what you both are thinking and it's not what it looked like." Hermione explained silently vowing to kill Salazar first chance she got. He wouldn't be too sorely missed.

"So, you mean to say he was trying to _force_ himself on you?"

Salazar made a choking sound.

Before Hermione could stutter out a reply George shoved her behind him and Fred pulled out his wand brandishing it like one would a sword, "Back, back I say you reptilian fiend! How dare ye compromise thy young lady's honour?"

The founder was unimpressed,"I take it they've already informed you then." He said.

"As a matter of fact they have, Snakey ol' boy." George eyed him.

"We don't appreciate you trying to rob our Hermione of her innocence."

Hermione pushed her way past the two and turned around to glare at them a dark red blush staining her face, "Enough, I've got plenty to deal with on Harry and Ronald's part. I don't need you two causing more problems. He is not trying to seduce me and if he ever does you boys can sleep soundly knowing that I can take care of myself. I'd Reducto his arse back to the bloody Jurassic period before he so much as laid a _finger_ on me."

"Oi, she really must be angry, calling him 'Ronald'..."

"I know; poor blokes." George sympathized.

They whispered amongst each other, tuning Hermione out entirely. It was useless. Who did she have to kill to get some peace and quiet around here? She supposed she could get Crookshanks to smother the stupid snake in his sleep, problem solved.

Salazar just leaned against the dresser mutedly as always and waited for his presence to be acknowledged once more. All he'd wanted to do was distract her long enough so that he could cast a temporary magical binding spell and then silence her for a few hours. It would've been so entertaining had he not been interrupted. What a pity.

"Fred, George, I think it's time for you to leave." Hermione eventually spoke up.

Fred looked affronted and George huffed before they left without so much as an ounce of protest, surprisingly.

She listened for the creaking of the stairs to signal that they were out of earshot, "If you ever try anything like that again, I **will**Reducto you." She growled.

He smirked, "What if I seek your permission first?"

"HA! By all means, do so, but I can surely say that I will never grant it." She replied sharply, shoving a drawer closed.

"I'm going to request a trip into muggle London tomorrow and if there is enough time, a visit to a wizarding community called Diagon Alley. I'm not sure if you are familiar with it."

"Can't say I am, however, I'd like to accompany you into this muggle village. I'm quite curious to see how the..._other half_ lives."

Hermione smirked, 'village'? She was about to correct him, then abruptly stopped herself. He'd find out soon enough.

* * *

Sorry for the wait! I got a nasty sunburn and I was incapacitated for a few days. Your author isn't too bright, going out for four hours with absolutely zero sun block. Never again, my friends, never again…

Anyway, so there you have it, as requested (and I was intending to do it anyway). Next chapter Sal is introduced to present day muggle society and Hermione has her hands full trying to keep him from getting mugged/maimed/massacred. Sound interesting enough? That's the closet thing you'll get to a summary for the next chapter.

I'm discussing it with a colleague as I write this and she has some very interesting ideas that will prove very entertaining. Let's just say that Sal is going to have a very bad day…I feel so guilty right now, poor Sally.

December 14th - My Birthday


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7: A Foggy Day (In London Town)**

_I was a stranger in the city  
Out of town were the people I knew  
I had that feeling of self-pity  
What to do? What to do? What to do?  
The outlook was decidedly blue  
But as I walked through the foggy streets alone  
It turned out to be the luckiest day I've known_

_A foggy day in London Town  
Had me low and had me down  
I viewed the morning with alarm  
The British Museum had lost its charm  
How long, I wondered, could this thing last?  
But the age of miracles hadn't passed,  
For, suddenly, I saw you there  
And through foggy London Town  
The sun was shining everywhere._

**- Judy Garland**

"Miss Granger, time to get up. I talked it over with Remus and Molly and they've agreed to let you go into town for a bit." McGonagall shook the girl's shoulder gently.

McGonagall left shorly after. The young woman stirred groggily beneath the sheets, moaning. She peaked through the opening at the angry red digits projecting from her bedside clock. It was six-twenty-two. Her memory of the previous night slowly returned. Throwing the covers aside in a sudden burst of energy she grabbed a change of clothes and headed straight for the shower.

* * *

Clad in jeans and a navy jumper, Hermione practically flew down the stairs, her mind scrolling down the list of people she needed to buy presents for. The trip was, first a foremost, an excuse to get out of Number Twelve. She had only been there a crumb total of two days and already the stagnate air was weighing heavily upon her. She missed the hustle and bustle of the city. Lost in her thoughts, she nearly careened head on into Snape.

"Head out of the clouds, please, Miss Granger." He sneered down at her.

She smiled apologetically and dodged past him into the dining room,"Good Morning, Mrs. Weasley, Remus." She greeted cheerily.

Lupin nodded in her direction over his cup of coffee and Molly beamed, "Now Hermione, we have a few things we need to discuss before you leave, but I think its best we wait until Sal gets around to dragging his bum down here. He should be arriving soon. I sent Minerva to wake him up a few minutes ago."

Hermione smirked and grabbed a muffin pouring some coffee in a mug for herself. Just as she'd taken her first sip, the stairs creaked and familiar grumbling filtered into the room. Turning around to score the first sarcastic mark of the day, she wound up choking on her coffee instead. The man was wearing jeans. Salazar Slytherin was wearing _jeans. _Not to mention, the light grey jumper he simultaneously sported complemented his eyes.

"What?" He asked, wearily when he caught her gawking at him.

She fumbled for speech, "N-nothing. Good Morning." Her tone was tinged with shock.

Molly chuckled from across the table and Hermione threw her a look while mouthing, "Where?", pointing at the man that now occupied the seat next to her, whom was apparently too drowsy to notice.

"Fred and George were feeling generous." She supplied simply and Hermione snorted.

Setting his coffee down on the table, Remus cleared his throat, "Molly and I have discussed things. Hermione, you and, er, Sal here will be allowed to go into town, but we have a few conditions."

Hermione nodded anxiously in understanding. She just wanted to get out of the dust infested house and into some brisk London air.

"For the duration of your time in muggle London, you may do as you wish. However, when it comes time to make your way over to Diagon Alley, we ask that you drink this." Remus reached into his breast pocket and handed her a small vile of Polyjuice Potion, "Better safe than sorry." He explained.

"And as for _you_," Molly chimed in, her eyes trained on Salazar. "You, dear boy, are getting that hair of yours cut today whether I have to tie you down or not."

Salazar snapped wide awake at that, "No." He said and got up to leave.

Molly aimed her wand at him in a flash, "Petrificus Totalus!"

Hermione watched wide-eyed as the man went completely rigid and feel to the floor, wincing when he hit the ground with a thud. It brought her back to that night in her first year when she'd had to cast the very same spell on her classmate. Neville had been so much shorter, though, compared to the full grown male resting like a plank of wood on the dining room floor.

"Was that really necessary?" She asked in a panicked voice when she noticed his eyes swivel toward the woman, murderous intent swirling within their depths.

"Nonsense, if the lad insists on acting like a petulant child then he will be treated as one." Molly waved her wand again and Salazar was pulled up by invisible strings and floated over to where she was standing on top of a wooden stool.

Hermione glanced at Remus for a fraction of a second and he smiled reassuringly, "I advise you go get whatever you may need. Molly will be here for a while by the looks of things." He suggested.

She threw one last look at Mrs. Weasley whom promptly started humming a nameless tune as she parted Salazar's hair. Hermione couldn't help but cackle evilly to herself when she replayed the image of the arse falling flat on his face while she climbed up the stairs. Serves him right.

"What are _you_ laughing about, princess?" Fred popped out of nowhere, grinning.

Hermione yelped in fright.

"Yes, do tell. What has got you in such a fine mood this morning? It wouldn't be that snake, now would it?" George added, appearing at his brother's side.

After having calmed her racing heart, she walked up to the nearest twin, not exactly sure who it was and punched him playfully in the arm, "Shouldn't you two oafs be asleep?"

They exchanged looks, reading each other in the way only twins could. She'd always found their silent conversations unnerving. Who knew what they were thinking, or rather, plotting, which was usually the case more often than not. Hermione waited patiently for their answer. Next thing she knew, Fred, or was it George?- threw an arm around her shoulders.

"Listen here, Mione, Fred and I," _So it __**was **__George_, she mused to herself. "-have decided to let you in on a little secret of ours."

"Oh _really_, and what, pray tell, is this 'little secret' of yours?"

The two smirked at each other, "Well, you see, those clothes ol' Snakey was wearing?"

"Yes...?" She eyed them suspiciously.

"We charmed them so that every time he gets within an inch of your, er, _person_, this," Fred dangled a tiny bell in front of her. "-will tinkle and _we_ will know."

She was speechless.

"So don't do anything we wouldn't do unless you want ickle Ronnikins and Flowerpot to know." George pinched her cheek and backed away before she could smack him.

"Why are you doing this?" Hermione was blushing despite herself. To even think that the twins assumed her, for lack of a better word, 'relationship' with that egotostical prat was an intimate one was sickening.

"No reason, really, just something to keep us entertained for the time being." Fred answered playing with the bell.

"You are being ridiculous. It's not like he's my bloody lover."

The twins laughed, "Aye, but what we stumbled upon yesterday basically screamed otherwise."

"We're only looking out for you like we would our little sister." George said innocently.

"Stupid gits..." Hermione grumbled, leaving them to get her purse.

"D'you think we should've mentioned the shocking jinx?" Fred pondered.

"Nah, mate. If things are the way we think they are, then they'll learn soon enough." Fred and George shook hands in a business-like manner and walked off to their room.

* * *

Harry and Ron sat on opposite ends of the room in silence,"Mum told me that Mione and that man were going into muggle London today." Ron peeked over at his friend.

Harry's expression was grim. He'd wanted to apologize to her but it seemed like every time he looked her pet snake was not too far behind. It amused him to see the man following her around like a puppy, but after a while it grew irritating. They should be looking for horcruxes right now, not going shopping or lying around. Time was running out and the lack of activity on Voldemort's side was unsettling. 'No news was good news' someone once told him. In this case, 'No news' meant something bad was going to happen, and soon.

* * *

After thirty minutes of digging through her trunk to find her wallet and bag, Hermione even more aggravated. It was already going to be eight and they still hadn't left. The whole point of leaving early was to avoid the holiday rush.

"Blast you woman, all I asked was that my bloody hair be left alone! I've gone along with every one of your whims since I got here. The least you could've done was respect my one wish!"

She rolled her eyes. The man acted like such a spoilt brat. It was just a little hair. It would grow back soon enough. Upon seeing him, however, she came to the conclusion that she, personally, never wanted it to be long again.

"Oh hush you big baby!" Molly chided while running her fingers through the newly trimmed locks in a combing maneuver.

Salazar just sat there; chin resting in his hand looking peeved. The strands curled up slightly at the nape of his neck and Molly continued trying to subdue them in vain. After a while she gave up and just ruffled the hair with her hand giving him that 'I-just-woke-up' look.

"There all done." Molly patted him on the head, "Ah, Hermione, what do you think?"

Hermione snapped to, blushing as she realized the two were staring at her waiting expenctanty for a reply. She didn't trust herself to speak at that moment. What could she say? Blurting out 'you look hot' was so superficial regardless of how true it was at that moment. Besides, she'd probably never escape the endless hounding from Molly and then she'd have to end up explaining what the term 'hot' meant to Salazar. She felt embarrassed just imagining that particular conversation. So, she settled for "It looks good." 'Good' was safe, one could never go wrong with 'good'.

Molly clapped her hands together victoriously and hopped off the stool, "Before you go," she scuttled over to Hermione, "The Order is throwing a little holiday party. It'll be a formal event, so while you're out buy yourself something nice. A bit of holiday cheer is medicinal during such dreary times."

Hermione smiled and Molly tucked a lose strand of hair lovingly behind her ear, "Be careful, my dear and take care of that silly man. We'll meet you at the Leaky Cauldron around three this afternoon. I've got some Christmas shopping of my own to do, the boys and Ginny might tag along. We may not recognize each other. I'm having everyone drink some Polyjuice potion as a precautionary measure, but I'll keep an eye out for Sal."

Meanwhile, 'Sal' was getting used to the foreign chill on the exposed skin of his neck. The last time he had his hair this short he'd been at least thirteen or fourteen and that was a _long _time ago. Merlin, he really was old.

"You ready to go?" Hermione's voice broke him out of his thoughts.

"I suppose."

Shrugging on her trench coat she realized that wearing only a sweater would hardly suffice when they would most likely be plodding through snow. Hermione thought for a moment and held out her wand. She aimed it at the cloth draped over the dining table and transfigured it into a black leather coat.

She picked it up and offered it out to Salazar,"Here, it's going to be cold, you'll need this."

Salazar grumbled and shoved an arm through the sleeve. Hermione reached up to flatten out the collar and he caught her wrist in his hand. Immediately she felt a stinging sensation and they both stumbled back from the other.

"What was that for?" She threw him an accusatory glare.

"I was not responsible for that." He said, massaging his palm.

"Neither was I -wait a minute…damn those nasty tricksters!" Hermione swore when she recalled Fred and George's warnings about not getting to close. They were probably behind the whole shocking thing too, those twits,"Never mind, let's just go before I end up killing someone."

Salazar didn't bother questioning her further or risk her wrath. He wasn't in the mood to deal with a perturbed female today.

Hermione stopped short on the front step,"We're going to Apparate to my parents' house and from there we'll walk into town. My mum and dad are in Paris, fortunately. My father would probably interrogate me if I showed up with you." The girl laughed at the idea, she missed her parents already.

Salazar didn't find the idea at all amusing.

Hermione went to grab his hand but stopped remembering Fred and George's jinx. She touched his arm testing to see if the shock would transfer through clothing and was relieved when it didn't,"Put your arms around my waist."

"I beg your pardon?" He asked, stunned.

She had not time for modesty on her part and tugged his arms around her by his sleeves. In a distant part of her mind an annoying voice was mocking her. That bell must be ringing off the wall by now.

"Unless you want to get shocked again, do as I say." Hermione ordered.

"Pushy little bint," He muttered under his breath and clasped his hands together resting them on her stomach.

The feeling of being held was so alien, yet welcome at the same time. She closed her eyes unconsciously and instead of imagining the backdoor to her house her thoughts trailed off. It wasn't until she felt Salazar's breath against her neck that her daydreams screeched to a halt and she berated herself for going 'girly' on the man _again_.

"Any day now, love, while I'm still young." He whispered into her ear and smirked when he felt her tense beneath his hands.

"Shut up, I was…distracted for a minute." She replied brusquely, ignoring his use of an endearment.

His hold on her tightened and he tugged her closer, leaning down to whisper once more, "By what, I wonder?"

Swallowing her gasp, Hermione elbowed him in the stomach, "Don't flatter yourself."

Closing her eyes for the second time, she envisioned her backyard from the bushes that outlined the house to the decaying wood of the fence. She felt the pull and grasped onto it, feeling the world falling around her shortly before her feet once again found solid ground. Cracking one eye open followed by the other she took in the familiar sight. Snow was dusted across the lawn and coated the bushes.

"I don't think I'll ever learn to like that feeling." Salazar uttered as he released her to steady himself against the brick house.

Meanwhile, Hermione extracted the spare key from within the confines of an old frog-shaped lawn ornament and fiddled with the lock. It clicked and she pushed the door open. Warmth enveloped the pair as she led Salazar into the cozy kitchen, securing the door behind her. His eyes were everywhere at once flitting from the gas stove to the buzzing refrigerator. He had to admit, for muggles, they certainly lived comfortably. The house was quaint and simple minus a few odds and ends that puzzled him, including a particularly large black box situated in what he assumed was the parlor.

"Quit gawking and hurry up." Hermione called after him, pulling the curtains aside to peer out the front windows,"Alright, looks safe. Let's go." She said after assessing the neighboring houses for activity and seeing none.

Salazar watched her fumble with the locks once more when they exited the home. Then, she started down the ice-encrusted sidewalk warily with Salazar following in her wake. The two made quite the pair, walking down the sidewalk together, so much so, that a neighbor took notice.

"Hermione Jane Granger, is that you?"

He watched her expression darken right before it morphed into a bright smile, too bright,"Good _Morning_, Mrs. McKenzie." She exaggerated her voice.

"Oh don't you 'Good Morning' me, you little tart, who's the handsome fellow hanging off your arm there? Shacking up while your parents are away, shame on you!" The old woman beamed at the pair.

Salazar covered up his gag with a cough as the McKenzie woman proceeded to eye him lecherously. He opted to just sit this one out and let the girl do all the talking for him.

"Oh, um, this is my, er, _friend,_ Stephen, Stephen Salazar and we were just dropping in to pick up a few things." She thought up quickly.

The woman continued to appraise Salazar, "'Salazar' eh? That wouldn't be Italian now would it?"

"Uh, no, Spanish, actually…" Hermione corrected.

"Italian, Spanish, they're all the same to me. What you've got there is one delicious male specimen. Makes me miss my Harold, god rest his whiskey soaked soul. I tell you though, if I were only thirty years younger…"

"It was lovely seeing you again, Mrs. McKenzie but we've _really _got to be going, bye." Hermione rushed and pulled Salazar along by his sleeve.

"You young ones, always in such a hurry, take care now!"

After he'd gotten over the initial disgust of being ogled by that old sheep, he felt the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of his lips. Muggles were always such skittish folk, always hiding away in their miserable little shacks. That woman was anything _but. _It made him consider the possibility of finer _feminine _individuals. He'd had his share of trysts in the day, some of them with muggle woman of course. Who was he to let such delectible creatures go to waste?

Hermione could hear the soft humming of an approaching car but thought nothing of it nor the reaction that was soon to come. Nope, instead she was planning out which stores to visit first while reciting the list of family and friends she was shopping for, "Mum, Dad, Aunt Margaret, Uncle Philip, Claire, Benjamin…OUCH!" She exclaimed as something akin to what she assumed felt like being struck by lightening surged through her entire body.

Salazar gripped her hand fiercely, "What the bloody hell was th-that monstrosity?" He pointed at a blue cab racing down the street.

Hermione pried his fingers off her hand. Each time his skin touched hers it sent another wave of electric sparks through her. He was too startled to even feel the electric shots.

"First of all, don't grab my hand like that again! Second, that _monstrosity_," She giggled saying it, "-is called an automobile; a car. It's how we muggles get around these days. It's our means of transportation. The horses were retired about five or six decades ago."

"How does it work? Have muggles learned some way to harness magic?"

The genuine surprise in his voice made Hermione laugh, "No, it's not magic, it's science. The outer, uh, shell I suppose, is comprised of metal. The um, heart, I guess you call it, is called the engine. The engine uses a fuel called gasoline to power the car and make it move. Then, of course, there is the battery and other thing-a-ma-bobs, but it's mainly used to move people around. It's the muggle's version of a broomstick; do you understand what I'm saying?" She laughed again thinking how absurd she probably sounded.

"Not really, but I think I get the gist of it. Are there more of those things where we're going?"

"Yes, a lot more," She replied, smiling.

* * *

"Oi, Fred, we've got some more activity over here!" George called over his shoulder.

Fred jumped over boxes of their Wizard Weezes products to join his brother. The golden bell was going haywire. Had Hermione been lying to them when she claimed that her relationship with the founder of Slytherin was purely platonic? By the way that bell tinkled he was receiving messages otherwise.

"Reckon they've felt that jinx yet?"

Fred smirked, "I would think so."

"Well, at least we know they aren't shagging each other." George admitted relieved when the bell had ceased its obnoxious ringing after only a minute or two.

"Could've been a quickie…" Fred joked.

They both laughed.

* * *

It didn't take Salazar long to find the most scantily clad woman on the street shortly after they'd made it into town. More cars zoomed by and he could've cared less. He was too busy trying to stay close to Hermione and eyeing the buildings that towered overhead. They were huge, formiddable looking structures and the people- well, they definately weren't clothed in rags anyone, were they? Many were dressed in similar fashion. Muggle society had come quite a long way, hadn't it?

Hermione snuck glances at him every once in a while and was pleased to see that he had taken an interest in the architecture, "So, what do you think so far? Not bad compared to the muggles of your time, right?"

Seeing an antique shop up ahead, she led him down the cobble-stoned sidewalk. 'Not bad' was an understatement and she knew it. He had to agree that their society had advanced a long ways. It fascinated and frightened him at the same time.

"It's sufficient enough, I suppose."

Hermione grinned; he was impressed. The stubborn arse just didn't want to admit it. The wind chimes over the shop entrance clattered together as she pushed the door open. Hermione's aunt was in love with anything older than she was, a trait she and her niece seemed to share.

"Good Morning, feel free to browse around. If you have any questions don't be afraid to ask." A blonde young woman behind the counter smiled at them, particularly Salazar and he took notice, smirking roguishly back.

Hermione strolled down the aisles glancing at ivory statuettes and old china along the way. Her aunt had vases galore and a kitchen wall dedicated to old porcelain plates. She was searching for something new.

"What are we looking for in here, precisely?"

The musty scent of old leather and decay dominated the atmosphere. He continued to feel the blonde's eyes boring into the back of his skull as he perused through the shop behind the curly-haired brunette. He followed her down another aisle lined with old mirrors and was finally able to see the damage Molly had done in full. His hair had started curling a bit at the ends since it no longer had to support the long strands and he noticed stubble sprouting along his jaw line and chin. After a few moments more of examining, he determined that maybe Molly hadn't done such a bad job after all.

"Quite preening and hurry up, you self-absorbed serpent." Hermione teased.

Salazar grimaced for a brief second when an idea struck him, "If you intend to refer to me by such things like 'snake' and 'serpent' perhaps I should come of with a little pet name for you?" And he had just the name for her.

She decided to pretend she didn't hear him and turned the corner to enter another aisle, this one lined with old jewelry boxes.

"Let's see, since you are a Gryffindor, something having to do with pig-headedness should do." He provoked, "-you are hardly a lion, more like a cat…no, a _kitten_."

"Shut up before I make you!" She threatened through a clenched jaw.

"Oh and a feisty kitten at that," He strode over to her arrogantly.

Hermione pivoted on her heel sharply and faced him with a foreboding expression, "If you _ever _call me that in public again, I will tell Crookshanks to smother you in your sleep and the only kittens you'll be seeing are deceased ones."

As she snapped at him, a wooden jewelry box caught her attention on the shelf behind him and she scurried forward plucking it out from between two other boxes. She turned it over in her hands eyeing the intricate carvings. Wooden vines trimmed the edges swooping down the middle where a tiny keyhole punctured the surface. She opened the box gently to find a tiny iron key nestled into the dark green velvet material. It was perfect.

"Excuse me, how much is this?" Hermione shouted across the store, startling the blonde who was in the middle of painting her nails causing the woman to make a trail of electric blue along her finger instead of on the nail itself.

"Eighteen pounds," The blonde grumbled back while furiously wiping at the smeared paint.

Salazar watched her contemplate the news and then saw the finality enter her eyes.

"I'll take it,"

He saw the blonde scramble to pretty herself up when she noticed them walking over. The founder saw an opportunity.

"Hello, I hope you and your, er, _lady friend _found things to your liking." Her sparkling blue eyes raked over his body.

"_Quite_. Though I must say, some things in here could use a cleaning. Perhaps I could stop by one day and _assist_ you." He spoke suggestively.

The blonde giggled while handing Hermione the bag absent-mindedly, almost dropping it, "Hmm, drop by anytime." She said, her gaze still locked on Salazar.

"Thank you, I'm going to go throw up now." Hermione smiled falsely, making a bee-line for the door.

Salazar threw the blonde a wink and followed after the girl.

"That had to be the most _disgusting_ display that I've ever had the displeasure to witness." She snarled at him once they were safely outside the store.

He pocketed his hands, "Now, now, Kitten, no need to be jealous. You know I only have eyes for you."

"You won't have _any_ eyes by the time I'm done with you, you perverted prat and I am NOT jealous." Her strides grew farther in between and he had to hurry to keep up.

Hermione veered toward a shop with formal gowns displayed in the window, still needing to pick up something decent for the Order's little soiree. She plowed through the revolving doors, not even bothering to see how Salazar was fairing. She'd lost herself completely in the beautiful dresses and was examining a lavender-colored gown when a sale's woman walked over.

"Excuse me, Miss, but I believe you've left something of yours at the door." The woman snorted lightly behind her hand.

"Huh?" Her eyes widened.

Salazar was trapped between two solid walls of glass looking very annoyed as people congregated outside the store, laughing. His fingers twitched threateningly and Hermione handed the dress to the woman and ran over to the set of doors.

"Assistance, please…" He gritted out.

"I don't know. Why don't you try asking that nice woman at the antique store to 'assist' you? I'm sure she'd be more than willing…" She quipped despite her embarrassment.

"I don't think these people would appreciate seeing this sadistic muggle contraption explode without proper cause." He threatened.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, just push the bloody thing forward, will you? It doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

Salazar glared at her, but did as she ordered and would've kept going for another round if she hadn't stopped him. After the embarrassment wore off, the hilarity of the situation hit her tenfold and she was soon clutching her stomach in laughter.

"Why must you muggles make all things, including doors, so complicated?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Hermione giggled continually while searching for a dress, "Go sit down or something. I may be a while."

A bookworm she may have been, but a girl she was also, and a picky one at that. Making sure that Salazar was safely seated in an isolated part of the shop she started picking through the racks.

"Need any help, Miss?"

She turned to the woman who had addressed her and realized that it was the very same employee that had alerted her to Salazar's earlier predicament.

"I'm trying to find a dress for a party, but I can't seem to find anything festive enough to meet my tastes." She bit her lip in thought.

The woman sized her up, "I may have just the thing. It arrived this morning." She said before excusing herself to go retrieve the dress.

Hermione paced the floor patiently, smiling in thanks when the woman returned with a gray bag draped over her arms. She handed it to her and directed Hermione to the fitting rooms.

She unzipped the bag carefully trying to make sure she didn't snag the dress. Her eyes widened as the gown was slowly revealed to her. Hermione ran her hand over the bright material. Without a second thought she rid herself of her jeans and dull sweater and slid the dress on in one fluid movement. It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. She was too busy staring at herself to notice the sales woman enter with a pair of high-heeled shoes in her hands.

"These came with the dress, if you'd like to try them on, they may be a bit big, though."

Hermione slipped into the shoes, wobbling slightly. They were indeed large, but nothing too drastic that couldn't be magically altered. She had to have this dress.

"I'll take it, and the shoes, please."

The woman clapped her hands together, "I knew you'd love it! As for the shoes, well, I'm sure a little shrinking spell could fix that right up."

Hermione's head snapped to the side in surprise, "Excuse me…?"

Smiling knowingly, she answered, "Marlene Mudgett, squib, at your service."

She shook Marlene's hand, "How did you…?"

Marlene laughed, "Only a wizard would manage to get himself stuck in those revolving doors, happens all the time whenever they chance a visit to the city. Plus, I'm an avid reader of the Daily Prophet, it's an honor to meet you, Miss Granger."

"Oh…just for the record, all those articles that Rita wrote…" Hermione started, hesitantly.

"No worries, peach. I wouldn't trust that Skeeter woman as far as I can spit." Marlene scrunched her nose up in distaste, "Now, how about I bring that dress up to the front for you?"

As she followed Marlene up to the counter, she searched for Salazar and nearly had a heart attack when the chair she'd left him in was empty. The man just didn't know how to stay put; it was like babysitting a toddler. Her heart rate speed up and she started imagining all the trouble he could possibly be getting into. Marlene noticed her distress and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"He's waiting outside, don't worry. I had a colleague make sure he didn't stray off anywhere. Told her he was ill in the head, wasn't hard to get her to believe it…considering he managed to trap himself earlier."

Hermione laughed nervously at that and hurried to pay for the dress.

"You're going to knock him on his arse…" Marlene said, handing Hermione her change and winking.

After thanking the female squib multiple times and promising to drop by for lunch sometime, she scurried out the door and searched everywhere for a familiar black head of hair. She sighed in relief when she saw him leaning against the front of the store a ways off and walked over.

"What have you got in your hand?" Her eyes darted to a small plastic packet that he'd been scrutinizing.

"Some man gave it to me, said it was a 'free sample' or something of that sort. He claimed it was Pixie Dust. Do you know how rare a find Pixie Dust can be? None of the apothecaries in my day could ever manage to get their hands on the elusive little creatures long enough to obtain some." Salazar opened the pouch and brought it to his nose.

Something in her mind clicked and her hand shot out, snatching the pouch away before he could get a whiff.

"This, is NOT Pixie Dust. For future reference, Pixie Dust is gold, not white." She snapped.

How naive could one person be?

"Then if not Pixie Dust, what is it?" He asked curiously.

"Not healthy, that is what this is." She answered and chucked the packet of white powder into the nearest trash bin.

It had only been an hour and she was already exhausted. She ordered Salazar to hold her dress, eventually handing the bag with the jewelry box in it to him as well. When he protested, she promised to buy him a vial of Pixie Dust at an apothocary in Diagon Alley and that shut him up for a while. Hermione spent a whole other forty-five minutes looking for presents, handing bag after bag to Salazar upon purchasing an item. It made her realize that men came in handy during times like these.

"If this is what I'm going to be subjected to from now on, I'd rather stay with that old hag that accosted us earlier." He complained while on their way back to her home.

Hermione looked over her shoulder, "That can be arranged. I'm sure her thirteen pet cats would love to have you over for dinner."

"I take that back…"

"I thought as much."

It wasn't even noon yet and she had already finished her shopping, for _her_ family, at least. They didn't have to meet Molly until three so she supposed they could just stick around her house until then.

Alone...together...

* * *

This is THE longest chapter I've EVER written for a story before. Anyway, so maybe I exaggerated a bit. He didn't get mugged, or maimed…or massacred, for that matter. He did get hit on by an old lady, though! That's got to amount to something.

To those who wanted him to get slapped, sorry. I just couldn't. I think he is far too sophisticated to…er, require certain 'services' in such a blunt manner. Hopefully the revolving door instance made up for that…

He looked so adorable in my mind when I pictured him showing Hermione the "Pixie Dust", all excited and whatnot. My poor baby…

More torture to ensue in Diagon Alley, and Sally gets himself a brand, spanking, new wand!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8: Ancestry**

Hermione unlocked the front door and ushered Salazar in. Shutting it firmly behind her, she pointed him into the sitting room. He deposited the various bags and packages onto a coffee table before depositing himself into an armchair. His arms were sore and his feet were throbbing.

"Never again...I refuse to be lowered to the status of 'pack mule'. It is degrading." Salazar growled.

Hermione ignored him and hung up her coat, thanking Merlin that they had dodged a second interlude with her nosy neighbor.

Salazar unbuttoned his coat and draped it over the armrest. It had been quite an experience. Muggles had come a long way in the past thousand or so years, becoming an advanced even _civil_ society. He never thought he'd see the day. He scratched the stubble on his chin and watched the young witch bustle around the house before shuffling back into the room and arranging her purchases on the table. He watched her curiously, noting the subtle changes in her features; she placed a finger to her lips when debating over something, furrowed her eyebrows when in thought, and worried her bottom lip in concentration. Eventually, she flitted from the room again.

"Would you like something to drink?" She asked after walking back into the room with rolls of colorfully patterned parchment.

"Water," He answered simply.

When she'd gone, he allowed his gaze to wander. Photographs lined the hearth, one in particular catching his attention. He got up and walked over to take a better look. It looked recent, judging by her appearance- and a very scantily clad appearance it was. The 'pieces of cloth' she donned could hardly pass for proper attire, let alone napkins. She may as well be naked, really. He wondered what kind of self-respecting parents let their daughter prance around- he eyed the picture, the ocean, mountainous dunes- the seashore partially nude.

Hermione came back into the room and blushed. He was staring, rather intently, at the 'ahem' light blue, bikini-clad, version of herself. Her parents had taken the photo when they'd gone on holiday to Australia. She had no idea what compelled them to put _that_ picture up on display. It wasn't the type of picture meant for the whole world to view. She didn't even look presentable- her face was red from sun exposure and her hair was a tangled mess after hours of blowing around in the breeze. She had to clear her throat to get Salazar's attention when he failed to notice her.

"Interesting apparel."

Hermione glowered. He just _had_ to say something,"I'm going to be wrapping presents. Feel free to explore, just don't touch anything and stay downstairs." She ordered, brandishing some scissors and tape.

Salazar smirked and sat back down in the armchair, knowing full well that deafening silence accompanied by his presence would only serve to annoy her. It didn't take very long. She hadn't even completed wrapping the jewelry box before turning to snap at him irately for tapping his foot. He smiled innocently, ceasing his movements for the time being, waiting a few minutes, and then starting back up again, tapping his fingers against the armrest instead.

Hermione knew he was doing it on purpose, but she tried her best to keep her temper in check. She glanced at the clock over the mantel and nearly whimpered, it was barely noon, three more hours. The thought alone was enough to drive her insane. Attempting to tune out his incessant noise, she intentionally made every movement loud enough to overpower his own.

The man noticed this and chuckled to himself. Eventually, he grew bored of the game, "I was…married...before, I mean." He baited.

Hermione stilled in her movements,"Really? To whom, if I may ask?" She wondered what kind of crazy a woman had to be to marry the prat.

"Her name was Marianna Malfoi."

"Come again…" Her mouth went dry.

_Interesting reaction_, "Marianna Malfoi, a rather pathetic creature." He recalled, "The Malfoi family was the latest addition to the Wizarding community, having emigrated from France to escape the growing werewolf infestation." He had her full attention now and reveled in the accomplishment.

"How do you spell that? Malfoi- I mean."

"M-A-L-F-O-I, why do you ask?"

"No reason, go on," She encouraged, completely fascinated.

She had never once considered what 'Heir of Slytherin' entailed, in fact, no one had. There had always been talk of Salazar Slytheirn, but no mention whatsoever of a spouse or even children. The idea itself was almost unfathomable: Salazar Slytherin _reproducing_, let alone being married. There was no recording of such in the history texts. The availableinformation on the man could be construed in a maximum of two pages. It was no wonder that very little was known; the man's history pre and post Hogwarts was one huge mystery.

"If I recall correctly, Godric was having some sort of social gathering and all the prominent families were required to attend. Many stringing along their young daughters in hopes that they would attract a wealthy young wizard and be married off within the next year." Salazar spoke derisively, they led such a tedious existence back then,"I must have been about fifteen years of age, or was it sixteen…Regardless, my mother coerced me into going along and it was there that I was introduced to Lady Marianna. For what it's worth, she was a beautiful sight to behold, hair like spun gold, almond shaped eyes whose color could rival the moon…"

"Yes, yes, that's all very well." Hermione cut in brusquely, feeling strangely peeved.

He smirked, "Jealous?"

She scoffed, "Hardly."

He chuckled, "She may have been a pretty picture, but her intelligence left something to be desired. That and, well, when the girl opened her mouth the noise that spilled out could barely be deemed a voice." Salazar grimaced at the memory of the annoyingly high-pitched sound. "I was forced to escort her for the duration of the evening. Neither of us were pleased with the predicament, I was too busy with my studies to even entertain the thought of women and she had been leering at some red-headed, freckle-faced twit the whole evening."

He sighed, "Our marriage was arranged. We wed shortly after my seventeenth Birth Day." It had been an opulent affair, the festivities extending late into the next day.

"Did you have any children?" It was a stupid question; of course he would've had to have kids for there to be an 'Heir of Slytherin.'

"I fathered a son, I think."

His answer surprised her, "What do you mean 'I think'?"

"A mistress of mine, Cecilia, I believe. Her husband was killed while researching dragons somewhere in the north. I took it upon myself to console her." He shrugged as if it were the most common thing in the world.

"What about your _wife!" _She spat.

"She was a bit preoccupied with a certain fiery-haired prat…sneaking off into the dead of night, as if I were that moronic." He smiled darkly, "He looked rather like your Weasley friend now that I think about it...I wonder- what?"

"Nothing at all…" She bit out, shearing through the wrapping paper with renewed vigor.

He knew from first hand experience that when a woman claimed "Nothing" to be wrong, there was usually _something_ wrong. He let her be for the time being.

"His name was Sephirou le Fay." He tested.

The shears fell out of her grasp and she turned to gaze at him in horror, "_le Fay? _You mean to say that your son…"

"It was a shame he never got to meet his great-great grandmother, Morgana. I personally, never met the woman, but Merlin went on about her frequently. He was always ranting about how she had been his best and worst student."

Hermione was at a loss. Salazar had fathered a son with a descendant of the first witch in _history_. It became apparent that the history books were due for some serious revisions. She glanced at the clock; an hour had flown by, leaving two more to be spent. She ditched the scissors in favor of her wand and within five minutes, boxes and bags in an array of colors rested on the floor. Piling them up in a corner she penned a quick note for her parents to find when they returned. She was mulling over their conversation. It made sense. The 'half-blood' Dark Lord had to be an enigma or come from a very powerful line of witches and wizards. His power was just unreasonable by normal standards. There was hope though; they had Salazar Slytherin didn't they? The original source of Voldemort's power- well, _half_ of it anyway.

"How many times must I reiterate that staring is rude before it sinks into that skull of yours?"

She hadn't realized she'd been doing so,"Sorry," She apologized, smiling.

"Has anyone ever told you how strange you are?" He eyed her warily.

"Repeatedly, are you hungry by chance?"

His suspicion unwavering, "A bit…"

"I'll make us something to eat, then." Hermione declared, going into the kitchen.

He found her a short time later boiling water in a pot and stirring bits of meat in a pan, "I go to school with the son of a Malfoy. Somewhere in the past they must have altered their surname, it is no longer 'oi' but 'oy'. The pronunciation is the same, as are the physical characteristics. Descendants, perhaps?"

He nodded, intruiged, "Perhaps."

"A right _rotten_ lot they are," She began slicing mushrooms ruthlessly.

Salazar waited for the inevitable sound of the knife clattering to the floor. He wasn't disappointed by her carelessness.

A moment later,"Damnit!" She cursed as drops of blood dotted the cutting board.

"Let me see," He commanded.

"I'm fine," She hissed in reply, holding a towel to the wound.

He cornered her against the counter and took hold of her hand. Pulling the towel away, much to her annoyance. He examined the wound on her palm. The cut wasn't deep, but blood continued to ooze out of the incision. Wiping the area clean, Salazar brought her hand level with his face. He brought the girl's palm to his lips placing a chaste kiss on the injury and then turned her hand over so that it faced her.

Hermione steeled herself for the electric shock at the skin contact, bewildered when she felt but his lips- which invoked a different electric shock on its own entirely. She stared into his grey eyes as he flipped her hand over. A warm tingle tickled the surface of her palm and she averted her eyes from his momentarily to see a dim green glow. The skin sealed up cleanly.

She glared at him, "Was that really necessary?" she growled.

Salazar smirked, shrugging, "Is that the thanks I get for healing you; such an ungrateful little thing." He released her.

"Oh don't you start," Hermione shoved an offending finger against his chest, poking him. "You very well could have used some other means to heal me. For instance, you could have just let me take care of it! I am not some incompetent fool!"

"The food is burning." He said, smiling lazily.

"Wha-bloody hell!" She exclaimed colorfully, pushing Salazar off of her to salvage the burning beef.

Salazar moved out of her way and leaned against the counter in amusement. She was right, he could have touched the wound with his finger and it would've healed just as easily, all the same. Why he did what he did was a a mystery all on its own, what's more is the fact that he did not regret the action, which only served to confuse him even further.

* * *

They made it through lunch relatively incident-free and were preparing to head over to the Leaky Cauldron. Salazar was currently being administered the silent treatment, something he was all too familiar with, having experienced it on multiple occasions before. One instance came to mind in particular, Cecilia had refused to see him after he'd forgotten his son's second birthday. Well, he hadn't _forgotten, _he'd been up late the night before grading papers and the date had simply slipped his mind. It wasn't until Helga had come bustling in, uninvited as always, to push his arse out of bed midday. The mudblood, however, was being considerably colder than most. It was slowly driving him insane, but sheer pride prevented him from apologizing.

She excused herself and walked into the downstairs loo. She'd managed to pluck a strand of hair off the coat of a pretty little brunette at one of the shops they'd visited. She figured that if she was going to be someone else, she may as well look decent. The Polyjuice potion sizzled when the hair came into contact with the mixture and she downed the liquid, wincing as it slid down her throat.

Salazar waited impatiently for the girl by the backdoor, nearly jumping out of his skin when he saw a tall, slender woman strut into the room, straight dark brown hair hanging over her shoulders.

"Polyjuice Potion," Hermione explained, her new height allowing her to speak to him face-to-face, "Let's go."

She returned the house key to its original hiding place before the pair vanished with a 'pop'.

They reappeared in an alley a ways from the wizarding pub. Salazar admired her new form from a distance. He found himself preferring the crazy mass of Devil's Snare-like curls. Since when did he have _preferences_ when it came to the little chit?

Hermione stopped in front of an old wooden door and tugged it open entering the bar. The place stank of old wood and liquor. She surveyed the room in search of the Weasley family. An old woman took noticed and hobbled over.

"Sal, dear, and Hermione, I assume?" The woman rasped out to her.

The model-figured femalenodded in return giving a smile both foreign and familiar, "Good afternoon, Mrs. Weasley."

"Ginny has been waiting for you; she's the blonde over in the corner. Fred is next to her. George decided to go on ahead of us. I'll go on and meet up with him. I trust you'll be safe. We'll meet back here in three hours. See you then, dear."

She left them to their own devices and scurried off. The woman must have been sitting on pins and needles, worry was evident in her worn features.

"Hermione, love, is that you? My, don't you look ravishing." Fred beamed at her.

"Shut up Fred, when I'm done with you not even the Aurors will be able to identify your remains." She snapped, venomously.

Salazar chuckled to himself at her tone, her threats didn't sound nearly as effective in her new voice.

"Fredrick Weasley, what did you do?" The blonde rounded on the boy.

"Nothing but a harmless prank, Ginny, my sweet little sister…" Fred answered meekly, cursing George for abandoning him. His brother probably anticipated the reaction and had intelligently left, leaving the less intelligent of the two to fend off the angry female alone.

"Don't think I've forgotten that stupid shocking jinx. I swear if I didn't love your mum as much as I do, I would've killed you ten times over by now."

People were starting to stare and Ginny quickly diverted Hermione's attention, "Mione, I wanted to get a nice dress for the party and I need your opinion, shall we?"

Hermione relented and stepped aside to let Ginny stand up.

"Fred, do me a favor and watch this one, will you?" She ordered, jerking her head in Salazar's direction.

"If I must…" Fred grumbled.

"Yes, you must." She barked right back making him jump slightly.

Turning to address Salazar finally, "Stay out of trouble, and don't draw attention to yourself." She pleaded.

The man rolled his eyes as per usual and moved to take Ginny's place at the table across from

Fred. Fred immediately turned to Salazar, once the girls had left, with a devilish smirk plastered onto his freckled face, "So, have you shagged her yet?"

Salazar uncharacteristically choked on his own spit, "What…?"

Fred chuckled and placed both hands behind his head, reclining in his seat. He knew Hermione wasn't that type of girl, but he was bored and it never hurt to ask, "You know, did you…rid her of her virtue?"

Salazar determined he could do one of two things, play along and see where it got him or ignore the comment entirely. It wasn't a hard decision; he was the Slytherin of all Slytherins, after all, "And what if I did? It would hardly be any of your business, now would it?" He shot back, looking just as relaxed as Fred, if not more.

The prankster stumbled mentally over himself. He had been expecting something along the lines of, well, not what had been said, "Being a fellow advocate of the male species, I'd have to say excellent work. However, seeing as how she is my equivalent to a younger sister, that gives me jurisdiction enough to kill you."

Salazar eyed him without fear, "Perhaps if you did not insist on baiting me then I wouldn't have reason to reply as such."

"You caught me." Fred shrugged, smiling sheepishly, "I just want reassurance that she'll be in good hands."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Salazar asked, his voice dropping low. He hadn't done anything as of late to give his new acquaintances reason to distrust him, so why would this Weasley brat want justification of his worthiness?

Fred sighed, "Come along mate, I assure you the sights in Diagon Alley are far better on the eyes then this lot. Just so we're clear, when I refer to sights, it isn't the architecture I'm talking about." He winked a mischievous blue eye and Salazar grinned, gaining a whole new respect for the boy.

* * *

Hermione perused the store while Ginny talked measurements with the resident tailor. The shop was full of vibrant colors and intricately patterned-cloth. It was the kind of place where everything was custom-made. Ginny was very particular about her clothes.

A minute later, her friend beckoned her forth, "What do you think would look best? I liked the green, but then again..."

"Nonsense, it's festive and it would accent your hair color." Hermione reassured.

Ginny pursed her lips in thought,"Green it is, now what about the pattern? The golden leaf pattern would look nice, don't you think?"

"Uh huh…" She replied absent-mindedly, wondering if leaving Salazar in Fred's care was the best idea.

"Mione…"

They could be setting fire to someone's robe or stealing candy from children.

"Mione!"

Hermione stared into the blonde's unfamiliar face for a moment before remembering it was Ginny beneath the guise.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing at all, what would give you the impression that something was wrong?" Hermione blinked as those eyes regarded her skeptically.

"Something happened between you and that man, didn't it?"

"O-Of course not." She stammered unconvinvingly.

"Oh Mione, you _must_ tell me! Did he take you against a wall in some deserted alleyway in London?"

She turned beat red, "Wh-what!" What kind of _books_had this girl been reading? "Ginerva Weasley," She began, "you have been reading far too many of those trashy romance novels in your spare time!"

What a hypocrite, like she didn't do the same.

Ginny pouted, deflating slightly,"Damn, well did he _at least_ kiss you?"

"NO…" Hermione answered too quickly and the smirk returned to her friend's face.

"He did, didn't he?" She prodded.

It hadn't been a kiss, persay, but it was still enough to reduce her to the state of a simpering fool, "That bloody twit…" She muttered.

"So was he good?" Ginny pryed, "The sexual tension between you two is ridiculously thick!" Ginny prattled on.

_Sexual tension_? That was where she drew the line, "I'll be at Flourish & Blotts if you need me…." Hermione spoke irately.

"Wait, I'm sorry Mione, I didn't mean anything by it. "

"No, no, it's not a problem. I just remembered that I ordered a book and I expect it's come in by now." She lied, stepping out of the shop.

Hermione strolled down the cobblestone-lined street and walked into the bookstore, the pleasant scent of parchment and ink assailed her senses and she inhaled deeply. It put her at ease immediately and she smiled warmly at the old man behind the counter. She ran her fingers deftly across the many spines of books lining the shelves. Finding nothing of consequence, she climbed up the rickety old staircase to the second floor. She paused to flip through a biography.

"Lucius, don't be a fool."

She froze, there was no mistaking that voice. She reshelved the book, positioning herself stealthily against the racks so that she could peek through a gap. Lucius Malfoy had changed considerably since she had last seen him. He was sickeningly pale and his hair had lost its healthy sheen. He sat in a chair opposite Snape, tapping his walking stick anxiously against his leg. His face was drawn in aprehension.

"_Please_ Severus, now is the time to act!"

"Well, well, well, what do we have here, eaves-dropping are we?" A voice whispered silkily in her ear.

A hand closed over her mouth and both her arms were restrained behind her. She kicked out wildly as her assailant dragged her out from behind the bookshelf and into the small seating area where the two men had been conversing. She was thrown down onto an old Victorian-styled sofa, dust clouding in the air making her eyes water. A wand was shoved beneath her chin and she was forced to tilt her head back. The familiar aristocratic features that she found herself staring at was the stuff nightmares were made of- or at least _her_ nightmares.

"Well done, Draco." Lucius complimented his son,"Now, mind telling us exactly how much you heard?"

* * *

End Note: Yes, yes, I know. I am SO sorry. School has been hectic and all the structure has caused my muse to wither. I am a creative person who tends to do things on a whim. I hope this chapter was worth the wait. If not, then my apologies!

I hope you all can forgive me for the long wait! I feel terrible. I know I mentioned that Salazar would be getting his wand in this chapter, but I added the whole kitchen scene in so that lengthened things up.

See you in the next chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 9: Allies, Spies, & Nixies' Sighs**

Salazar and the Weasley twin strolled down Diagon Alley in conversation, pausing every so often when a lovely specimen of the female species happened to walk by, nine times out of nine throwing them a coy smile. Having just passed Eeylops Owl Emporium, Salazar's attentions were drawn away from a raven-haired beauty across the street to a dingy old sign, Ollivanders: _Makers of Fine Wands Since 382BC_. Now there was a welcome sight. He nudged Fred and gestured toward the wand shop.

"I don't know if that is such a good idea, mate. I know a few people who would be sorely put out were you to make a purchase."

Salazar arched an eyebrow, "Indeed, and I'm sure you'd thoroughly enjoy the looks on their faces, wouldn't you?"

Fred laughed and slapped Salazar roughly on the back making the man stumble forward a bit, his expression sour.

"Besides, I haven't any money as it were. Miss Granger failed to supply me with some currency before she went off cavorting with that sister of yours."

The Weasley twin stroked his chin in consideration. Salazar didn't bother to wait for his permission. He pushed forward into the throng of fellow wizards and witches, the latter of whom would pause in the middle of traffic to gawk rolled his eyes and followed suit, frowning when said 'witches' moved on upon sight of him, clearly unimpressed. The two men walked through the door and Fred was thankful to see that the front counter was vacant. It was likely that Ollivander was somewhere off in the back of the store and _far away _from them. Salazar picked up a long, rectangular-shaped box off a shelf and popped the lid, examining the wand within.

"Thirteen inches, Crabapple, with a lock of mermaid's hair."

Fred pracically jumped a foot off the ground. Salazar, however, was able to maintain his composure. Ollivander was leaning against the counter. He cast a dark look at Fred who recoiled at the old man's gaze. Ignoring the red-head, he straightened his coat and walked up to the founder. Salazar replaced the cover on the box and handed it to Ollivander in his outstretched hand.

"Is there anything I can help you with, sir?" The old man's cold eyes regarded Salazar in a servile manner.

"I'm here to purchase a…replacement, if you don't mind." Salazar answered carefully.

"Certainly, right this way, if you please." Ollivander gestured with withered, skeletal fingers toward the counter. Salazar nodded in return and followed the man. Fred grumbled in protest behind him.

"Hold still for a moment." The wand maker ordered while gripping Salazar around the wrist and stretching out his arm. A tape measure whizzed through the air, flitting about his frame until eventually Ollivander said, "That will do." and the instrument dropped to the floor.

"Interesting…I shall return with a few samples, excuse me." Sending one last peculiar glance at his customer, Ollivander disappeared into the back of the store.

Fred waited for the door to the storage room to shut before he broke into a fit,"What in the name of bloody Mary are you doing? You just said you didn't have a knut to your name and here you are trying to purchase a wand."

Salazar lifted another box and opened it up to examine its contents, completely tuning Fred's ranting out. Wandless magic was one thing. It was only capable of so much. To have a wand in one's possession opened up so many more possibilities. He doubted his logic would convince the Weasley in his company so he conjured up an excuse,"It's to keep up pretenses."

Fred crossed his arms over his chest in disagreement, "Well if that's what you're after, there's hardly a need to go through so much trouble. We can just say you're a squib."

Salazar rounded on Fred fiercely, his grey eyes blazing, "I intend to retain at least some semblance of my dignity whilst here."

"Now, now," Fred lectured, "No need to get all frisky about it. Save it for the bookworm."

Ollivander appeared again behind the counter with a stack of dust encrusted boxes. He laid each one out on the surface, lids open, wands on display. Salazar threw one last threatening look at the twin before stepping up to the front desk. He scanned each individual wand before finally selecting one to the far right. Lifting it up to his face his eyes traveled the length of the polished wood, weighing it in his hand.

"Twelve inches, Chinese Elm, with a dart from the tail of a Manticore." Ollivander answered the unvoiced question.

Salazar made a swift movement and a vase in the corner of the store with wilted flowers draped over the rim shattered. Water splashed onto the floor and Ollivander flinched, "My apologies," Salazar said, replacing the wand as Fred chuckled to himself behind him.

"No need, happens all the time…" Ollivander procured his own wand and the vase pieced itself back together flowers and all.

Salazar allowed his hand to hover over the eight wands before he finally paused at one to the farthest left. He felt a surge of energy shoot through his arm leaving a warm, powerful, sensation in its path. He immediately plucked the wand out of its dark, velvet lined case.

"Ah, a fine choice. Twelve and a half inches, Onyx Cedar, Garuda-feather core."

He grinned, "Ironic…"

Ollivader looked puzzled, "How so, if I may ask?"

"My last wand; the core was composed of ground naga scales."

"Ironic, indeed, sir."

Fred just stared at the two men as they conversed, feeling like a complete twit and cursing himself for not paying attention in Care of Magical Creatures. Salazar, on the other hand, didn't even have to try the wand out to know for sure that this was the one for him, "Name your price, Mr. Ollivander,"

The wand maker paused in the middle of stacking the other wand cases. He stared Salazar down for a good two minutes before deciding,"No price, a gift."

Fred's jaw dropped open.

"Don't be silly, something so fine requires payment." Salazar attempted, but Ollivander waved his hand dismissively, having none of it.

"Nonsense, I've lived to see the day that someone worthy enough would walk out of my shop possessing that particular wand. Now that I have, my life is, _in a sense_, complete." The man chuckled hoarsely.

Salazar made quick work of discarding the case and pocketing his brand new wand safely within the confines of his coat. He thanked Ollivander once more before he and a disgruntled Fred left the shop. The founder hadn't even fully stepped outside when someone ran smack into him. Next thing he knew he was on the floor with a warm body resting on top of him.

* * *

"I suggest you talk, little one, before we make you." Lucius's firm hand gripped her by the chin.

Hermione jerked her face away, glaring pointedly at Snape. She'd always known he'd turn out to be a traitor. She was just disappointed to be proven correct for once. Lucius did most of the prodding while Snape lingered in the shadows. Draco sat smirking like an idiot, reminding her of a dog waiting to be rewarded for his accomplishment. She half expected him to sprout a tail and have his tongue lolling out of the corner of his mouth. The mental image made her giggle despite herself.

"What could possible be so entertaining about this situation, my dear?" Malfoy senior questioned.

"Lucius enough toying, let me dose her with Veritaserum and be done with it." Snape let out.

"You are such a spoil sport, Severus." Lucius complained dryly.

Hermione gasped when she felt her skin start to tighten. The potion chose a perfect time to wear off. There was still a bit left in the bottle Lupin had given her, but she wasn't exactly in a position where she could just whip it out. Snape would be able to identify the liquid in a second. Draco caught her eye and surprise graced his features.

"Father, I think she's going to be ill…"

Shielding herself with her hair, she clenched her eyes shut as her bones contorted back to their original structure. They'd know who she was soon enough. Her hair returned to its normal shade, the strands curling up in the process. Slumping against the armrest, Hermione tossed her head back to stare defiantly at the three.

"Miss Granger…why am I not surprised? You always did have a knack for sticking your nose where it wasn't wanted." Snape said, looking somewhat relieved.

Draco laughed at the sight of her disheveled form while Lucius eyed her in mild disbelief. She glared at them both and was about to reach for her wand but the younger of the Malfoys saw the movement and aimed his own at her.

"Don't go getting any ideas, mudblood." He narrowed his eyes at her.

The seriousness of the situation was cut short when Malfoy senior whacked his son over the head with his walking stick, "Now Draco, that is no way to treat a lady, mudblood or not. Forgive him, Miss Granger." Lucius admonished Draco before turning to her.

She was tempted to pinch herself. Had Lucius Malfoy just apologized to _her_? Hermione blinked in confusion.

"We won't harm you my dear, so please don't struggle." Lucius went on.

She wanted to laugh, the way that sounded coming from him of all people, "Mind explaining what is going on then?"

Snape looked at Draco, "Go stand guard while we educate the little sneak."

The blonde grumbled, massaging his head, walking off leaving her alone with the two Death Eaters.

Lucius sat back down while Severus preferred to stand, looming over her, "Not that it's any of your business, Miss Granger, but Voldemort isn't the only one in the habit of recruiting spies. Lucius has been working for the Order for the past three years. Draco joined recently this last year when he came of age."

Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a simple 'o', "Oh…" Snape scowled down at her. Lucius chuckled in his seat, "Do the rest…" Hermione started.

"-Of the Order know?" Snape cut in swiftly, "Of course, you twit."

His degrading tone annoyed her, "Why was I not informed?"

"We deemed it unnecessary that you and those other two dunderheads know. Alliances would be called into question, no doubt, and arguments would arise."

Hermione took all this in and decided that Snape was right. Harry would never believe the Malfoys were truly loyal to the cause. He was paranoid as it were. She sighed resolutely.

"We are no longer safe amongst the Death Eater ranks. Many have grown suspicious of us and rumors are flying. We intend to desert them once and for all, seeking shelter amongst fellow Order members." Lucius spoke.

"When things get tough, the tough get going, eh?" She spat unsympathetically. This was the man who'd almost destroyed Ginny, ally or not he had yet to earn _her_ respect.

Snape was about to snap at her but Lucius held up a hand. Smirking he answered, "I suppose I deserve that, but make no mistake, I am only doing this for the benefit of my son. I could care less if I died tomorrow, as long as my boy is safe."

His words were like a blow to the stomach. She wished Snape had gotten to her first. It appeared that she was on a roll today in regards to royal screw-ups, "I'm…sorry." Hermione said sincerely.

"Don't be. Now, if you'll excuse us, Draco and I are needed elsewhere at the moment." He tapped his left forearm, his face dark.

Turning to Snape, Lucius spoke once more, "Be expecting us in a few days, give or take, thank you again, Severus."

The former potions master nodded and waited for the Malfoy to depart before he released a heavy sigh and took the chair Lucius had previously occupied. Hermione watched him warily from her spot on the dusty old sofa. She waited for him to say something, but he never did, at least not for a while. He seemed to be lost in thought and she didn't want to disturb him. She removed the bottle of potion and popped the cork open, drinking the remainder of the disgusting concoction. It took a few seconds to kick in and she mutedly rode out the uncomfortable sensations. Back in disguise, she didn't feel as exposed. When she finished adjusting her clothing, she glanced up only to see that Snape was staring at her.

"I hope you have enough sense to keep this afternoon's events to yourself."

"Of course." Hermione answered, "And our latest Slytherin addition?"

"In due time, Miss Granger…" He replied.

There was another moment of awkward silence that she took the liberty of interrupting when she got up to dust her trench coat off. She needed to be getting back to Ginny and then soon after that, Salazar. A thought struck her and she started giggling softly to herself.

"Four Slytherins under the safe roof in a house of Gryffindors. Merlin help us all." Snape rewarded her with a rare grin, "I'll see you back at headquarters, sir. Good day." She bid him farewell and made her way back down to the first floor.

The moment she made it down the last step a hand wrapped around her arm and tugged her into a dimly lit corner of the store,"Good to see you again, Granger." She could hear the smirk in Draco's obnoxious voice.

"Release me you filthy little ferret."

The blonde laughed, "I didn't get the opportunity to talk to you properly what with father and Snape taking the reigns up there." He spun her around in his arms so that she was pressed up against his chest, her face inches from his, much to her disgust.

Draco gave her a quick once over and she longed to pluck out his eyes for it,"You know Granger, maybe you should look into making this little transformation of yours permanent. I must say I approve." He commented.

Hermione tried to pry his arms from around her but to no avail. She was trapped, "Hurry up and talk, you bloody git. I need to be somewhere and you are wasting my time."

"Don't go getting your knickers in a twist, love. I just wanted you to know that I hold no hostility against you and I promise to behave from now on while in your presence."

She rolled her eyes at his testament, "You're off to a good start, then…"

He let her go, "Glad to hear it, see you around." Draco apparated with a pop leaving her alone in the corner like an idiot.

Hermione stormed out of the bookshop ignoring her fellow customers' confused stares. Snow had begun to fall in gentle flurries and soon, her coat was dusted with the icy flakes. She strode down the sidewalk not sure of where she was going but allowing her feet to carry her. All she'd wanted was a nice little trip into town but obviously nothing was simple anymore. She was so absorbed in her own thoughts that she failed to dodge a certain someone as he exited Ollivander's.

The girl ran smack into Salazar causing the both of them to tumble to the ground in an ungraceful heap. There was a snap upon impact. Salazar scrambled out from under the woman and his hands immediately went for the pocket, "Oh thank Circe," He exclaimed, seeing that his wand was safe and intact.

Hermione groaned in embarrassment. She had just been about to start spewing forth apologies when Salazar's familiar voice filled her ears. In the middle of sitting up she felt something sharp dig into the side of her leg.

Salazar looked up when she yelped and watched her extract half of what appeared to be a wand.

"Oh god…" Hermione whimpered as she pulled out the other half of what used to be her wand.

Fred made his presence known at that time, "Don't worry Mione, we can get you a new one."

Hermione was on the brink of tears as she stared down at her wand. She didn't want a new wand. She liked her old one just perfectly fine. It took a while to get used to a new wand. She didn't have the patience to break one in. She caressed the broken pieces sadly.

Salazar watched the pathetic display in front of him until he couldn't stand the sight any longer. He pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and gripped her hands in his own, pulling her up off the floor. She surprisingly allowed him to lead her into the wand maker's store. Fred could do nothing else but follow them, besides, things promised to get interesting. The emotion that flickered through Salazar's eyes at the sight of Hermione's tears piqued the prankster's interests completely.

Ollivander looked up at the sound of the door creaking open and upon sight of Salazar he smiled, "Back so soon?" Then his gaze fell on the woman next to him who was absorbed in mourning the 'death' of her wand.

"Oh my poor child, I'm guessing another replacement is in order."

Salazar nodded, "If you don't mind."

The old man chuckled, "Hardly, this is the most business I've had in one day for the past eighteen years."

After handing the broken pieces to Ollivander, Hermione sulked in silence. The wand maker assessed the shattered parts and mumbled inaudibly to himself.

"Perhaps next time you'll watch where you're going." Salazar remarked just to get her to stop pouting.

It worked and fire sparked back into her eyes, "Look who's talking, you prat."

Their argument was cut short when Ollivander returned with three boxes, pulling the lids off. Salazar shoved her forward and she reluctantly eyed each one. She reached at random and plucked one out from within its casing.

"Ten and a half inches, Siberian Elm, with a Northern Wyvern's fang."

Hermione attempted the simple task of levitating an object but instead she ended up turning a quill into a dart. The feathered object launched itself across the room where it hit the wall with a thud. Salazar and Fred both laughed and Hermione frightfully placed the wand back down. The other two were no different, both causing some sort of destruction. The men were thoroughly enjoying themselves at her expense. When neither of the three succeeded, Ollivander narrowed his eyes at her in thought.

The truth of the matter was that Hermione was not very good when it came to wands. Her first trip to the store had been memorable. She'd gone through about ten different wands before finding the right one that suited her. It appeared that she was about to repeat that same process again.

"You always were one of my most difficult customers to match, Miss Granger."

Hermione was taken aback. How could he possibly have guessed it was her? The potion was still in full effect, yet his expression was confidant. Salazar smirked. He knew there was something he liked about this man. Ollivander was extremely perceptive; one had to be in this line of work.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Hermione tried to keep up the farce but the wand maker would not be so easily fooled.

"You forget, Miss Granger. I remember everyone I've ever sold to, and your wand, nine inches, Vinewood, with dragon heartstring, was certainly an unforgettable purchase."

Hermione blushed at his words, so he did remember…

"I won't question your reasons for the disguise, but please don't take me for a fool." He frowned, "I have one last wand in mind, and I pride myself in being accurate, so do not fret, my dear." Ollivander said.

A few minutes later, Hermione was staring at the most beautiful piece of wood she'd ever seen.

"Eleven inches, Water Oak. The core essence: a Nixie's Sigh, quite tricky to retrieve."

Fred chuckled at the suggestiveness, but covered it up with a cough when Ollivander gave him a disapproving look.

Hermione flicked her wrist fluidly and a blue glow shot from the tip and danced through the air. The feeling that the wand gave her was unexplainable. It made her feel like water, herself: lethargic, yet powerful and unyielding. It was perfect.

Ollivander smiled, "That will be fifty galleons."

Hermione nearly choked at the price. She could afford it, but it wasn't as if she carried that kind of money around in her pocket. She wasn't about to hand the wand back over to the man either.

"But, since I'm feeling so generous today…" Ollivander continued, "You can have it for free."

"Are you sure? I mean this wand is probably one of a kind. I can't just walk out of here with something so precious without paying. I don't think I could handle that on my conscience." She prattled on.

Salazar rolled his eyes, and decided to try out his own new wand on her by casting a special Silencio. It worked, for lack of a better word, like a charm. When she tried to remove it using wordless magic, it failed. He'd made it so that the counter curse had to be recited aloud.

"I must thank you again for your aid, Mr. Ollivander. If there is anything you require in the future, feel free to contact me through Miss Granger." Salazar shook the wand maker's hand.

"Take care, Miss Granger." He patted Hermione on the shoulder as she pocketed her new wand.

Salazar started towards the door with Fred at his side. She smiled thankfully at the old man before hurrying to catch up. Once outside, she grabbed the founder by the back of his coat. He turned around and she stomped her foot angrily, pointing to her lips. It wasn't in him to resist temptation, especially if it meant seeing her flustered.

Instead of removing the spell, he grabbed her by the chin and placed a chaste kiss against the corner of her mouth,"Happy now, darling? You can be so needy sometimes." He proclaimed in a distressed tone.

A group of witches nearby burst out into a fit of giggles at the scene and began whispering amongst each other; Fred was laughing so hard he had to hold himself up using the wall. She lifted her hand and slapped the founder clear across the face. Fred stopped laughing at that point and the gaggle of witches gasped. The expression on Salazar's face was enough to strike a man dead if looks could kill. He advanced on her and Hermione suddenly regretted her actions.

"That wasn't very nice…" He said, darkly

She didn't get very far when all of a sudden his hand shot out and he threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Fred nearly died from lack of oxygen. Her muted protests added to the hilarity of the situation as he strutted down Diagon Alley for all wizarding society to see.

Ginny was just exiting the dress shop when she saw Salazar parading down the sidewalk with Hermione over his shoulder and she rushed over, blonde hair flowing behind her, "What in Merlin's name are you doing; put her down this instant!"

Salazar did as he was told with a grin still plastered on his face alongside Hermione's angry red hand mark. Fred came up from behind them still laughing.

"And you! How could you let this go on? Just wait until I tell Mother about this."

Hermione tried to talk, pointing to her throat frantically. Ginny brought out her wand and removed the spell at once.

"I am going to strangle you both with my bare hands." Hermione rasped.

An explosion shook the earth at that moment and they all turned to see a cloud of smoke billowing from somewhere down Diagon Alley. Screams pierced the air and witches and wizards alike began Apparating away. Familiar cloaked forms poured from the recesses of Knockturn Alley shooting off spells and curses.

Fred immediately grabbed Ginny,"We have to go, now. Mum made it clear that were something like this to happen that we run." His voice was stern.

Ginny tried to pry herself away, screaming,"No, we can't just abandon Mum and George! They're out there somewhere!"

"They'll be fine, they know what to do. We have to go!" Fred shouted over the screams.

Hermione watched helplessly as people fled. Those who were unable to apparate were left to fend for themselves. She couldn't just leave them,"We can't just run away when people here need our help!"

"Don't be stupid, Mione, we need to save ourselves first in order to save them!"

"Go now, we'll be right behind you." Salazar ordered, ignoring Hermione's screams of "No!"

Fred didn't need to be told twice and he and Ginny were gone in a flash.

"I'm not leaving." Hermione stood her ground.

Salazar chuckled, mirth danced within his wintry orbs, "I never said anything about leaving anytime soon, now did I?"

She was confused, "What?"

Salazar peeled off his coat and discarded it on a bench after pulling out his wand, "I don't know about you, but I want to see just how rusty my dueling skills have gotten over the years." The smile on his face and the evil spark in his eye made her grin.

Fred should've known better than to take the word of a Slytherin.

* * *

End Note: Another chapter down for the count. For those who wanted Sal to be smacked, well, there you have it. Go Hermione! Lucius is such a charmer; dear lord how I adore him. So next chapter, Sal gets to show off his dueling skills and someone ends up getting hurt. I wonder who it could be…

Oh, and about Sal's old wand, let's just say that it managed to disappear into the sand's of time for now, at least.

For those of you who are interested in the mythical creatures I used for the wands, I included some information on them below. These definitions are not mine. I've collected them from off the internet.

Salazar:

(Old Wand) Naga- Nagas originate from India they are **serpents**of the waters. These creatures take different forms some are all serpent with many heads others have serpent tails and the upper body is human others are human looking but with a snakes head. Nagas are guardians of treasure hidden with the earth. It is said they are able to control the weather.

(New Wand) Garuda- The Garuda or Garida is an ancient bird, which is similar to that of the Roc, it could block out the sun with its wings and could pick up elephants in its talons. The Garuda has a beak and wings of a bird of prey, the head was white in color and the wings scarlet and the body was a golden yellow color. It was sometimes called the bird of life. The **Garuda** was the **feared enemy** of the **Nagas**.

Hence, the irony, moving on…

Hermione:

(New Wand) Nixie- In Norse folklore, they are water spirits who try to lure people into the water. The males can assume many different shapes, including that of a human, fish, and snake. The females are beautiful women with the tail of a fish. When they are in human forms they can be recognized by the wet hem of their clothes. The Nixies are considered as malignant in some quarters, but as harmless and friendly in others.

Miscellaneous:

Manticore- The Manticore is a vicious creature which comes from Asia. The Manticore is a lion like creature that's head has some human likeness; it has a tail which is sometimes depicted as a tail of a scorpion or a tail that fires poisonous darts. The Manticore sometimes is depicted having leathery wings.

Wyvern- A creature very similar to a dragon except it only has four limbs (2 wings, 2 hind legs) and is smaller in size. Usually the other aspects are the same, although wyverns are generally not characterized as breathing flame.

Mermaid- I assume we all know what this is…


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 10: Toddlers and Torn Tendons**

The snow crunched under her shoes as Hermione, wand in hand sped toward the mass of black cloaked figures. An array of curses sailed through the air. She dropped to the floor to avoid them while Salazar merely chose to sidestep. She rolled her eyes. The man's ability to retain his arrogance in the midst of battle was unbelievable. Hermione rose and with a graceful arc of her arm, a spell shot right for the nearest Death Eater, knocking him back, barreling over a few others in the process.

She looked to see how Salazar was fairing. Hermione blinked in surprise; 'rusty' _indeed. _In the span of two minutes he already had three Death Eaters suspended upside down from lamp posts, the metal manipulated to twine around the assailants' legs. A flash of sickly green shot right past her cheek and Hermione felt her heart skip a beat. Had she been any closer it would have stopped altogether. She rolled into an alley way, panting, and then darted back out again, wand at the ready.

She jerked her arm, "Confringo!" The blasting curse made her stumble back at the sheer force but sent at least four Death Eaters flying through the air. Salazar sent her a deflated look as one of the four flew into his own opponent. Hermione shrugged and continued forward.

He turned away from the girl, smirking. These dark soldiers were turning out to be a nuisance. When they realized they could not best him in spell casting, they resorted to more barbaric methods. Hand-to-hand combat was considered undignified in wizarding society, or at least, it _was. _He blocked another punch with his forearm and jabbed the man in the gut, sending him crumpling to the floor. Salazar loomed over his form, grinning maliciously. He lifted a leg and stomped down ferociously, a bone cracked under the pressure.

"I have no pity for savages." He spat, and moved on.

Hermione watched him in mild shock. Distracted, her foot caught on something and she fell forward. Her knee scraped against the cobblestone, hands taking the brunt of the fall. Pain bolted through her left wrist. She whipped her head around. A scream caught in her throat; a pair of lifeless eyes stared back at her. There was a stifled cry and the corpse shifted, much to her horror. A small hand appeared from beneath the folds of the deceased woman's robes. Her eyes widened. Hermione wasted no time; she crawled over and shoved the body. A little boy with chubby red cheeks and big green eyes was curled up beneath.

She hefted the boy into her arms, "Whatcha' got there, girly?" A scratchy throated voice rasped out to her and she crushed the child to her chest woman behind the mask cackled evilly and reached out a wrinkled old hand, swiping her claw-like nails across Hermione's cheek. She recoiled, cheek bleeding. The child in her arms started sobbing.

Raising her wand, Hermione shouted,"Glacia!" A blast of ice shot from the tip of her wand and encased the female Death Eater, freezing her solid.

She struggled to catch her breath while simultaneously trying to calm the toddler. She needed to find Salazar and fast. Ducking out from behind the woman's frozen form, she meandered her way toward a mass of Death Eaters that congregated in the middle of the street. Their attentions were centered on whatever was going in in their midst. Cheers rang out. Hermione scampered to get a view of what was going on within their little circle. There was a gap and she peeked through from a safe distance. Her body went numb.

Bellatrix's pale face was contorted in rage as she revolved around her opponent which, strangely enough, was a huge, black cat, "Here kitty, kitty, kitty," Bella mocked, gesturing with her finger. The creature hissed at her, baring its teeth as its ears flattened against its head.

Hermione gasped as the cat made a lunge for the woman. Bellatrix dived out of the way and the cat doubled back, launching itself at her. Bellatrix fumbled for her wand, shrieking "Sectumsempra!" The curse hit the creature in one of its hind legs.

Its feral roar had the hairs on the back of her neck standing. It landed on top of the woman's form and sunk its teeth into Bellatrix's thin neck. It clamped down mercilessly. Hermione turned her head away, squeezing her eyes shut. The woman's screams gurgled to a stop. Tears started streaming down Hermione's face as she fought the urge to look back. She could hear the other Death Eaters mumble to each other before they Apparated, leaving curling black puffs of smoke in their wake. When the coast was clear, Hermione slipped out of hiding and made her way over to the two forms sprawled in the middle of Diagon Alley in a pool of blood. The effects of the Polyjuice potion gradually started to wear off, but she ignored the uncomfortable sensation.

She felt her stomach retch, but whether it was from the potion or the carnage, she could not tell. Averting her eyes away from Bellatrix's mangled corpse, she kneeled down shakily next to the mass of black fur. Her hand moved of its own accord to caress the animal's head and she gasped in fear when a growl reverberated through its chest. Slowly, the fur receded into pale skin and the creature morphed. A sob escaped her lips and she placed a blood stained hand hesitantly against the side of the man's face.

"Salazar." She uttered. Her eyes darted to his leg. His ankle had been severely sliced and the bone was exposed. Cradling the child in her arms, she prodded the man gently at first before her movements grew frantic, "Wake up! Wake up, you bloody twit!" She pleaded desperately.

His eyes cracked open,"You look terrible," He commented hoarsely. Relief flooded through her chest as Salazar's hand came to rest upon hers. His gaze fell to the child resting upon her breast and he and quirked an eyebrow in question.

She laughed softly, and conjured a Patronus to send for help, "We're in for an earful later." Salazar chuckled, "Well, it's a good thing I won't be awake to hear it." Confused, she stared at him. His hand went limp and his eyes closed shut. She couldn't afford to wait for help to arrive. After bandaging his wound, Hermione gathered the child close and grasped on tightly to Salazar before Apparating.

* * *

Appearing on the doorstep of Number Twelve, Hermione balled her hand into a fist and banged on the front door. A few seconds later, it creaked open. Molly stared down at her with red rimmed eyes, "Remus! Remus, it's Hermione! Come quickly!"

Remus hurried over to the front door and helped her drag Salazar into the house, "Where's Professor Snape?"

"Young lady, you've got quite a bit of explaining to do." Molly began hastily, as she cleared the dining room table so that they could splay Salazar's body across.

In all the commotion, the toddler began to cry again. Molly froze, looking at the child strangely. Before she could say anything, Snape swept into the room, McGonagall close behind him. He ordered everyone out and had Remus send for Madame Pomfrey. Hermione escaped into the sitting room and occupied a chair by the fire place. She patted his back soothingly and he released his death-grip on her neck. Summoning a bowl of water and a small towel, she began to wipe off all the dirt and grim from the boy's chubby cheeks. The child batted at her hand in a playful manner and she smiled gently, ruffling the boy's mop of black hair.

"Mama?" The child said sweetly and Hermione couldn't help but tear up. Pushing the stray hair away from his face she sighed, "No, darling, I'm not your mama." The poor thing couldn't have been more than two years old. He clapped his hands together laughing, "Mama!" and she pulled him into her embrace.

A few hours later, Remus found her staring into the fire. When she turned to him, there was a peculiar look in his eye that made her heart race in fear, "What's wrong?" She choked out.

"Severus wishes to speak with you."

She made quick work of depositing the child onto the sofa, sending Remus a pleading look, "I'll look after the little thing, go on, but we'd like an explanation later." He said. Hermione nodded and strode out of the room.

* * *

Snape was waiting for her in the foyer. His face was drawn. She gazed into his beady, black eyes for some sign of reassurance. There was none. His eyes betrayed nothing, "If you would please follow me upstairs, Miss Granger."

Hermione bit her lip, and allowed her feet to carry her up the flight of stairs and down the hall. Before she could push the door open, Snape's hand shot out from beneath his robes, halting her progress, "Please, Professor, spare me the lecture for tonight." She begged.

"Be silent, you ignorant little fool. In all your infinite wisdom, what in the name of Merlin possessed you to throw yourself into harm's way so carelessly? Have you gone daft? Not only could you have gotten yourself killed, but your friend in there managed to sustain quite an amount of damage. I don't know if he'll ever be able to walk properly again!" He spat.

"Wh-what?" Hermione stuttered out.

He stepped back, "The curse may have not taken his whole leg but it did enough damage to last the man a lifetime. His Achilles tendon was severed among various other things. Magic can only do so much in this particular circumstance. Poppy was able to re-grow the majority of his nerves, his tendon, however, will require time to heal on its own, and then there is the therapy to get him back on both feet again." Hermione clenched the fabric of her shirt, twisting it nervously as Snape went on. Guilt swept over her and she slumped against the wall, tears began to well up in her eyes.

"You may go in and visit with him if you like; he may not be awake, though." he sighed eventually.

Hermione was hesitant to enter the room now that she knew the severity of the circumstance. Seeing it would only make things worse but she needed to at least make sure Salazar was okay. With one last withered glance, she left Severus in the hall as she pushed the door open gently, shutting it behind her with a light click.

The window was open and the curtains danced on the light breeze, the room itself was chilly and she hugged herself. She padded across the wooden floor to the man's bedside and just stared. It was amazing how much one's appearance altered when they slept. His face was so serene; the marble-like skin unmarred. He could've easily been mistaken for a statue if it were not for the subtle rise and fall of his chest.

"You should've just wallowed in that dingy, old, soup bowl of yours." She whispered.

"You wound me with your words, kitten." The sound of his voice startled her.

Salazar's silver eyes trained on her form in the darkness. They glinted eerily, knowing and animalistic, _like a cat, _"Why did you fail to mention that you can turn into a giant cat?" Hermione asked, reminded about his being able to assume the shape of an animal.

Salazar frowned, "The correct term is 'Panther', and you never asked." Salazar replied sardonically while trying to push himself up against the headboard.

The covers slid down revealing a bare chest and the poor, young, Gryffindor had to bite her tongue to keep from squeaking out loud. She refused to let him think that she was some silly little twit that went 'gaga' over the slightest hint of naked flesh, despite the fact that she currently couldn't keep herself from tracing the lines of muscle. A shameful blush bloomed across her cheeks.

"So, um, am I right to assume that you're an animagus…" She started out nervously, trying to distract herself.

"One point to Gryffindor." He smirked weakly. She was grateful that he failed to notice her change in demeanor.

"Now that I've revealed a secret, it's your turn."

"Huh? My animagus, oh, I don't have one…" She prattled, paying attention to the patterned wallpaper and fidgeting with the hem of her blouse.

Unfortunately, Salazar was more perceptive than Hermione gave him credit for. His male instincts told him that there was defiantly something off with her behavior. She had been perfectly fine a moment ago, next thing he knew, she seemed ready to bolt, "No, not your animagus form, girl, even though I must say I'm quite surprised that you have yet to master the art. I was referring to the brat that was clinging to your neck last I was conscious."

Hermione's mouth former an 'O' as she fully comprehend what he'd meant. Moving closer she sat at the edge of the bed, "His mother was killed in the ambush and I wasn't about to just abandon the poor thing." She said simply.

"What's the little tyke's name?" He asked.

When she opened her mouth to answer she realized that she didn't even know. Did the poor thing have a father? If so, the man was probably going insane with worry. Hermione moaned into her hands. Salazar laughed, "I take it you don't know."

She muttered incoherently to herself. Ginny burst into room. The black-haired boy was struggling to get away from her and tugging on strands of red hair. His face was wet from crying. The redhead looked on the verge of herself. She walked over and dumped the child into Hermione's lap, "I am NEVER going to have children!" She ranted before stomping out of the room without an explanation, slamming the door behind her.

Salazar watched the boy play with the girl's spring-like curls, giggling whenever the brown strands 'sproing-ed' back into place, "Demetrius…"

"What?" Hermione glanced at Salazar whom was eyeing the boy in a far-off gaze.

"Call him Demetrius."

"I cannot. I'm sure he has a name and I don't want to confuse him. His father must be worried sick; losing a wife and a son all in one day."

"Losing a son...I'm no stranger to that feeling." Salazar admitted absentmindedly.

The three sat in relative silence disrupted by the occasional chime of laughter by 'Demetrius'. The man's words had struck a cord in the Gryffindor's heart. She desperately wanted to ask him exactly what he meant by 'losing a son' but was smart enough to know better, "About your leg…" She started, deciding to change the subject.

Salazar turned to her once more, "What of it?"

"I don't know if Snape has spoken to you about it yet, but I'm afraid you will be out of commission for a while."

The grey-eyed man stared blankly at her, obviously confused. Straightening up, she allowed 'Demetrius' to crawl from her lap onto the bed while she angled herself to face the shirtless man, "What I mean to say is that you won't be able to walk properly for a few months. The damage to your leg was severe." Hermione lamented. Much to her infinite surprise, instead of being upset about the situation, the man _smirked_. Then again, what was she to expect? She'd been convinced on more than one occasion that the founder was slightly off his rocker.

"I leave that up to you, " He said, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

"So-sorry, but what d'you-" She stammered.

"To help me get back on my feet, my well-being rests in your capable hands. I'll have no one else." He interjected, jaw set to accentuate his seriousness.

"Is that supposed to make me feel flattered?" The young woman gritted out, "You make it seem as if I actually have a choice in the matter! The moment you climbed out of that bloody bowl I was inadvertently put in charge of your sorry arse!"

Salazar bent over and pulled Demetrius into his lap and the child, strangely, did not put up a fight. Then, looking at Hermione over the mass of black hair, he said, "Take care to watch your language, kitten. You forget there is a child in the vicinity." The man admonished her.

Her jaw dropped. The nerve! "By child I assume you are referring to yourself, you prat!" She smacked his uninjured leg.

"You're so-called caretaker has the mouth of brigand." He cooed to the boy who took the opportunity to grasp the man's face, one hand on each side of Salazar's stubbled cheeks.

Hermione snickered at the sight, "Fine, but if I'm going to be expected to nurse you back to health I want something in return."

"Name your price, pet, since it is obvious that seeing me well again is not reward enough."

She rolled her eyes at this and tapped her chin in thought. Salazar eyed her curiously, wondering what it was she would require of him. He waited patiently for her answer while playing with Demetrius's stubby little arms.

"Teach me how to become an animagus."

"What an interesting request."

Hermione blushed, "How so?"

The man just shrugged and she couldn't help but notice the corded muscles shift beneath his skin, "Very well, if that is what you ask of me, we'll start tomorrow." He stated, grinning.

Hermione shot up off the bed, "Don't be ridiculous, you are in no shape to be doing anything, much less teaching."

"I didn't know you cared, how sweet." He replied, giving her a smile that made her heart flutter considerably.

The feeling disgusted her and she wanted nothing more than to pluck the stupid organ out of her chest. Crossing her arms stubbornly she scowled, "I don't. I just don't need you to wind up injuring yourself further. Not only would I have to play nurse for a longer period of time, but I'd have to hear it from Snape."

By now Demetrius had settled down and was resting on Salazar's chest, his eyelids fluttering as he tried fought sleep. Hermione noticed that Salazar wasn't too far behind in his state of consciousness so she walked over to retrieve the boy. Slytherin shooed her away with his hand, "Leave him. I'll watch the child; you are in dire need of a wash." He mumbled.

She smiled lightly, nodding despite the fact that he was basically saying she looked like crap. Turning away from the semi-conscious males, she made her way over to the door, throwing on last glance over her shoulder before departing.

* * *

A rat-like man scurried through the vast torch-lit tunnel bumbling like a fool. The slightest crackle of fire set him off with a squeak. The smell of wet stone assailed his senses. Following orders, that's all he was doing, that's all he ever did. It was either do-or-die, and death was not an option. Coming to a door he knocked before being bid to enter. The door protested with a moan as the man shoved it open. Shutting it behind him he waited to be acknowledged, shivering the whole while.

"What news do you bring me, Wormtail?" A leathery voice hissed and the man had to swallow his fear. Sweat trickled down his brow, "For-forgive me, m-my l-ord, there ha-has be-be-been a casualty…" Wormtail stuttered out. An inhumane hiss and the scrape of scales against cold stone prompted a whimper out of him.

"_Yes, go on_."

"Madame Lestrange, sire…" He started.

"_What_…?" The Dark Lord's voice was tinged with venom.

Wormtail twiddled his fingers nervously reminding himself that every second could be his last, "Bellatrix was killed, my lord, during the attack on Diagon Alley."

"_**WHAT!**_" In a burst of fury the cloaked figure rose out of his seat and hurled the chair across the room nearly hitting Wormtail in a blast of energy.

The little rat let out a squeak which eventually crescendo-ed into a blood curdling scream as the Dark Lord whipped out his wand and aimed a Cruciatus at him. The man fell to the floor convulsing harshly. Blood streamed out of his nostrils and along the corner of his mouth.

The Dark Lord paused long enough in his assault to ask one last question, "_Who…?_"

Wormtail, choking on his own blood answered, "A m-man, sire puh-puh-please, have mercy."

"_Speak louder you wretch lest I decide to silence you for good_!"

"No one recognized him. All that we know is that he assumes the shape of a black panther! Please my lord, spare me!"

The Dark Lord shrunk back wearily, summoning his chair and taking a seat, "_Nagini, my dear pet..._" A large snake coiled itself around the leg of the chair and into her master's awaiting hands, "_I believe it's time for a snack…_"

Wormtail's bloodshot eyes widened, "My lord, n-no! P-please!"

"_Goodbye Wormtail…_"

Nagini propelled herself with a deadly hiss and latched onto the pitiful man's neck, sinking her teeth in. Red eyes gleaming, the Dark Lord stared into the fire, ignoring the sick sounds of bone being broken.

_Soon…_he promised himself, _very soon_…

* * *

End Note: So, how many of you honestly thought _Hermione_ was the one that was going to manage to get mangled? Well, ha! Got ya there! Salazar is still a human after all.

Speaking of dear ol' Sal, here's a teeny tid-bit that I got off mugglnet that I found VERY interesting and which inspired me to write the whole Demetrius/Sal interaction the way I did. Now, it's not necessarily true, but it's a rather good observation. The article is called "**EarthAirWaterFire: The Four Elements of Hogwarts**".

**Water:**

_Spiritual/Personality: Emotional, intuitive, dreamy, __**motherly/good with children**__, mysterious, creative flow, gentle, loving, forgiving, moody, flexible, changing…but also cold, melancholy, indifferent, raging, unstable. Water is sometimes known as the element of balance because it can be both hot and cold, both solid and liquid. It also said to be the "primordial ooze" (ocean) from which all life sprang._

_Physical: The moon, ocean, births, deaths, wombs, tides, waves, lakes, blood, tears, cycles, silver, cups, chalices, grails, femininity, purity_

_Water is the element of Slytherin. The House symbol is the Snake which can be associated with both water or fire._

"_Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends."_

_-Sorting Hat, __Philosopher's Stone_

I'll be honest…when I first started doing my research I had a really hard time connecting the water element to Slytherin. There were plenty of ways I could connect it physically; the Slytherin common room is under the lake, Voldemort's Horcrux cave was surrounded by water inside and out, the Chamber of Secrets is reached through the bathroom, the basilisk slithers through the pipes, etc. But spiritually? Emotionally? As you can see by the descriptions and attributes given to the water element above, I kept searching and finally made some pretty deep connections.

_The first connection that struck me was the idea that water represented the cycle of the womb, birth, death, and rebirth. Voldemort springs to mind pretty quickly. Merope, his mother, gave him life (under very questionable circumstances). He eventually changed and warped himself into something barely human, then "died", only to be reborn when his small and grotesque fetal-like body was dropped into a cauldron (representative of water, women, and the womb) at the end of __Goblet of Fire__.When he emerged, he was himself again-or as close as he will ever get. _

_When the water element is "off balance" in a personality, the person in question can exhibit rage, instability, indifference to the human condition, and violence. Visualize the ocean on a calm day, it's surface gently swelling. Now picture it when a large storm hits and "unbalances" it. Violent waters, huge crashing waves, rain, lightening, wind. It goes from being beautiful and serene, to being highly volatile and dangerous. Voldemort is the epitome of an unbalanced water type personality._

_Voldemort's talent at Occlumency/Legilimency also fits the water type personality; water types tend to be naturally intuitive (good at reading people and situations, going with the 'gut instinct'). There is no doubt that Voldemort is a masterful manipulator, a trait also inherent in another well known Slytherin, Severus Snape._

I just found this fascinating because a lot of it made so much sense to me. If you'd like to read the rest you can find it at mugglenet (dot) com in the encyclopedia section under the category 'Harry & the Real World'. Just look for the article title and viola. You can also read up on the rest of the Houses.

Until next time,

Meow-Mix-91


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 11: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas**

Hermione yawned, changing positions so as to get more comfortable. She couldn't possibly fathom what had possessed the man before her to wake up so early. When he said they'd be starting 'tomorrow' she didn't think that meant at the arse crack of dawn. She'd hardly slept at all the night before. No matter how much she scrubbed away at her skin in the bath, the coppery scent of blood lingered in her nostrils. It made her sick. And then, there was Salazar; _I don't know if he'll ever be able to walk properly again! _The words were seared into her brain.

"Before we proceed any further, I think you should at least know…" Salazar began, breaking Hermione out of her reverie. Pinning her hair up with her wand, she waited for him to continue, "The first time is usually rather painful," Her eyes narrowed at him threateningly, "But don't worry, kitten, I'll go easy on you."

Hermione threw her hands up in exasperation. They hadn't even started and she was already thoroughly frustrated, "Must you insist on turning everything into a bloody innuendo?" She snapped, glaring at the man.

Salazar chuckled, "Perhaps if you were not so easily aggravated then I'd have no need to."

"You are despicable," Hermione grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. She mentally marveled at how he managed to remain so composed. His face was sickly pale and a sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead. Guilt crept over her menacingly. She shouldn't have let him talk her into starting so early. The fool needed rest. Slouching with her chin in her hands, she scowled.

Salazar smirked crookedly at the girl's immature display, "Alright, enough of your pouting,"

"I am _not _'pouting'…" She bit back.

He waved her off, "Very well, quit **moping** then and go stand over there." Salazar pointed towards the center of the study.

Hermione did so, begrudgingly, "Now what?" She demanded haughtily, hands on her hips.

Salazar was at a loss. When he agreed to 'teach' her, he didn't exactly think as to what that implied, "To be honest, I'm not quite sure myself."

"What?" Hermione slumped.

"Well, it's not a concept that can be _taught_." He relinquished.

Hermione could understand what he meant by that, but then why would he have agreed to teach her; "Can't you recall how _you _managed?" She suggested. Now that she thought about it, the animagi that she'd come into contact with in the past were all skilled witches and wizards. What if she couldn't do it? Furthermore, what if she morphed into an otter? Her Patronus was an otter and animagi tended to retain the same form as their Patronus. An otter wasn't exactly the most _impressive _of creatures.

"Child, do you realize what you're asking of me?" Salazar laughed mirthlessly, "I pride myself in my good memory, however it _is_ limited to the last few centuries of my life. What you're asking me to recall happened over one-thousand years ago."

She didn't appreciate being addressed as 'child', especially by _him. _It was hypocritical, "Can you at least _try_?" She pleaded.

He frowned, "Fine..."

Hermione took a seat and waited. He shut his eyes and massaged his temples. After a minute or so, he cracked an eye open, "Stop staring will you; it's unnerving."

She'd been doing that a lot lately: unconsciously staring at him, _"My _stare **unnerving**_, _he says!_"_ Hermione needled.

"Be silent, witch." Salazar grumped.

She laughed quietly to herself, rubbing her hands together in an attempt to fend off the cold. The room was positively glacial. She raised her hand and discreetly aimed her index finger at the fireplace. There was a crackle and then fire swelled to life within casting an orange hue against the walls. Hermione chanced a glance at Salazar. His head drooped to the side and his shoulders sagged. The oaf had fallen asleep. Hermione sighed, smiling gently. She transfigured a nearby tapestry into a wool blanket and draped it across his lap.

* * *

Hermione strolled into the foyer. Something sweet permeated the air; Molly was sure to be cooking up a storm all day what with the Christmas Party later that evening. The rest of Number Twelve was relatively silent. She trudged up the stairs, pausing briefly outside the boys' room. Resting her forehead against the door she brought a hand up to knock. She hesitated and turned away. The door creaked open behind her and she tensed.

"Mione…?"

Her eyes watered at the sound of Ron's voice, "Hi Ron…"

Ron opened the door a bit wider, "Come on in Mione, we need to talk to you anyway." He noticed the uncertainty in her eyes, "He's not mad, Mione, only sorry as hell." The redhead reassured her.

Hermione cracked a smile and nodded. She ducked under Ron's arm and into the room, navigating her way through piles of clothes. Harry was perched on the edge of his bed, flipping through a map of Europe. When he saw her, he folded it back up and tossed it on the mattress. He patted the space next to him and Hermione sat down. He raked a hand nervously through his hair, "Mione I just want you to know how sorry I am. I'm a right git for saying something like that. I wasn't thinking." He apologized.

She laughed, "I forgive you." He'd been punished enough. Her heart went out to the boy. He looked worn: seventeen going on forty-seven.

Ron cleared his throat, "Harry," He prodded.

Harry's jaw clenched, "Mione...Ron and I are leaving, soon." He finally said.

Her brows furrowed in confusion,"What do you mean 'leaving'? Wherever do you plan on going?" The determination in her friend's eyes made her stomach drop. Her hand gripped onto his tightly, "Y-you can't just leave! Not without me, you won't! I won't allow it!"

"Hermione, by being here I'm putting everyone at risk." Harry reasoned, "I can't just sit here and do nothing, not when there are horcruxes out there to be destroyed. I have to _try_."

"Harry...Harry you _can't_." She sobbed, "You don't even know where to begin!"

"No, not exactly" He admitted, "- but I have some theories."

"Mione, it's better if you stay," Ron suggested, "Who else is going to take care of that snake-prat?"

Had he gone daft; what happened to her Ron? Was this the same boy whom had practically had a fit over her relationship with Viktor Krum; 'fraternizing with the enemy' as he'd so eloquently put it. She searched for any inkling of the _real _Ron in his sincere blue eyes. _No, this isn't my Ron_, she thought. Her Ron had grown up a long time ago; she had just never paid attention long enough to notice, "Harry," She rasped.

Harry shrugged, "He's right, Mione."

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"Not that I'm saying I much fancy the idea of you living under the same roof as that reptile, but you are _technically_ responsible for him." Harry chuckled.

"Yeah, Mione, it's your fault he's even here in the first place." Ron tossed a dirty old shirt at her haphazardly.

There was no reasoning with them, they were dead-set on this, "When do you plan on leaving then?"

"A day or so after Christmas…" Harry replied.

"That soon…" Hermione mumbled.

"Yup," Ron affirmed.

"So be it. You two are too stubborn for your own good." Hermione muttered.

"Not as stubborn as you, Mione, never as stubborn." Harry retorted.

She stood up and began retrieving clothes from the floor and piling them into a basket in the corner of the room. She was always looking after them, it seemed. How did they intend on surviving without her? Hermione's heart stung. They _would_ survive without her though. They didn't need her anymore...but she still needed them, "Well, I suppose I'll be seeing you two later. I've got two _new_ babies to take care of."

"Hear that mate; she didn't waste any time in replacing us." Ron had the decency to look affronted.

Harry chuckled, "Speaking of babies Mione, what's with the kid?" He asked.

"It's a long story," She replied dismissively.

"We've got time."

"I'll tell you..." She smirked cheekily, "...'a day or so after Christmas'."

"Hey, that's not fair!" Ron protested.

Hermione laughed.

* * *

_"Lord Salazar…Lord Salazar…LORD SALAZAR!" _

_Salazar woke with a start, his vision swimming as he fought off the remnants of sleep. Placing a hand to his throbbing head, he waited for the pain to subside. He regretted sneaking that glass of ale last night. Grey eyes squinted open, "What is it, Bartholomew?" _

_"Young master, Lord Vayne has arrived for this afternoon's lesson." The servant answered stiffly._

_His eyes snapped open completely. Salazar threw the covers back and went in search of some clothing. The white-haired man pointed the young lad in the direction the day's outfitting and waited patiently for Salazar to get dressed before escorting the boy down to the gardens. Excitement coursed through his veins. It had been six long months since his last lesson and he was ready and willing to suffer whatever jinx aimed his way for lack of punctuality. He narrowly managed to deflect the anticipated spell. The bolt of magic ricocheted off his shield and hit the garden wall leaving a nasty dent. He smirked victoriously. His servant stared in horror at the damage._

_"Lord Vayne," Salazar greeted, bowing respectfully to his master._

_The dark-haired man eyed the boy, "Young Master Slytherin, Bartholomew…" He acknowledged._

_Turning to his servant, Salazar coolly dismissed the man, "That will be all Barty, thank you." The old man promptly departed. There was a brief moment of silence between the two before they burst out laughing. _

_The boy stared up at the man in utter admiration as they clasped hands in greeting, "Master,"_

_"Salazar, I'm glad to see that on my leave you've continued to practice vigilance. That jinx of mine nearly hit you dead on, young lad."_

_The boy grinned cockily, "Nay, Master, you underestimate me."_

_The elder wizard chuckled and draped an arm around his student's shoulders leading the boy over to a stone stump,"On to business, today's lesson will focus on one's ability to transform into the embodiment of one's inner conscience."_

_"Congratulations Master, barely a minute into the lesson and you've already succeeded in making me thoroughly confused." The future Founder of Slytherin House quipped._

_The boy's sour expression made Lord Vayne crack a smile, "Everyone: witch and wizard alike, has the capability to take on the shape of an animal." He began, "However, only the most skilled of magi can accomplish this."_

_"It will be a serpant for me! I will have nothing else!" The young lord proclaimed excitedly._

_"Don't get ahead of yourself, lad. You cannot will what it is you wish to transform into. It is based solely on one's true self." Vayne lectured, "For instance, it was said that Lady Morgana le Fey assumed the shape of a bird. She was a free-spirited woman; do you begin to see where the lines cross?"_

_Salazar stroked his chin in thought, "Yes, Master. What shape do you assume?" Vayne smirked as he opted to show rather than tell. _

_Salazar watched in fascination as his master's body began to contort. After a few seconds a coil of black scales rested in a pile at his feet. The creature hissed and slithered through the grass, its hood flaring open menacingly. The boy stepped back warily, "Master?"_

_The snake let out another long hiss that slowly morphed into a groan as the man retained his human form, "Now lad, it is your turn." Vayne steadied himself._

_Salazar pitched forth off the rock eagerly, closing his eyes after instructed to do so, "Clear your thoughts, think nothing, feel nothing." Salazar could hear his master's voice circling around him. Thoughts clawed at the surface as he fought to suppress them; slowly the world grew muffled until all he heard was the sound of his breathing. A throbbing sensation shot through his limbs. Then the muscles in his legs contracted. His face contorted in pain._

_"FOCUS!" His master barked. He willed himself to do so, riding out the spasms._

_Vayne waited patiently until his pupil had ceased jerking,"Open your eyes Salazar."_

He inhaled sharply as he returned to consciousness and jerked away from the hand that descended upon his shoulder in surprise.

"Salazar dear, guests are starting to arrive for this evening's festivities. If you'd rather not participate I could have Remus help you upstairs to your room." Molly offered, kindly.

How long had he been sleeping? Shaking his head, he replied, "That will not be necessary. I should like to take part, however I fear I lack the proper attire for such an event."

She smiled warmly, "Not to worry dear, I asked Severus to find you something to wear should you decide to join us."

Salazar internally grimaced. He could only hope that Snape had at least _some_ semblance of fashion when it came to formal events.

* * *

Hermione was sitting in front of her bureau as Ginny raked a brush through her dripping curls. In an attempt to divert her attention away from the painful pulls she watched the reflection of Demetrius playing on the bed. He looked positively adorable in the sleek little dress robes that Mrs. Weasley had conjured up for him. Meanwhile, she'd been forced to allow Ginny to play hairdresser in return for her refusal to show the redhead the dress she'd purchased in London.

"I still don't see why you can't just let me have a quick peek, Mione, why all the secrecy?" Ginny whined.

Hermione winced as her friend tugged the brush through a rather feisty tangle, "There's no secrecy Gin, honest. Just hurry up with my hair, will you?"

Ginny yanked purposefully harder on the brush. After successfully ridding her hair of each knot, she pulled out her wand and with a wave the soft curls were pulled up and piled onto the top of the brunette's head. A few unruly strands were left to dangle about her face and the nape of her neck. The redhead stepped back to admire her work. "Oh, I am good." She announced triumphantly.

Hermione rolled her eyes and moved to unzip the bag that housed her gown, "Turn around." She ordered and Ginny reluctantly complied. The bookworm allowed herself to admire the dress before she slipped it on.

"Alright that's it; I don't care if I see more than I want. I'm turning ar…ound…" Ginny's words died in her mouth at the sight, "Mione…"

Hermione giggled, smoothing her hands over the material, "Next time you decide to go shopping in muggle London take me with you."-was all Ginny could manage as she stared enviously at the gown. The brunette lifted Demetrius off the bed and spun the child in the air before propping him on her hip. Stepping into her pair of ruby-red heels, she and the redhead exited the room.

"Mione wait!" Ginny exclaimed.

"What is it?" Hermione asked worriedly. Had the dress's train caught on something? She turned to face her friend.

Ginny lifted her wand and aimed it at the curly-haired witch. Murmuring a spell, Hermione's eyelids were dusted with golden eye shadow and her lips were smeared over in gloss,"There, now let's go break some hearts m'dear." Ginny spoke excitedly.

* * *

Salazar kept to himself, dressed in (thankfully) fashionable clothing and occupying a chair. Idly swirling the golden liquid Remus had called 'champagne' in its crystal container, he surveyed the room boredly. Severus stood beside him and the two conversed casually. Every now and then his attention would dart toward the stairwell expectantly. He was disappointed to see the girl's two friends descend instead. Together they walked over to greet the group of youngsters that had been congregating over by the entrance to the study. No one seemed to pay him any mind.

"Annoying little twits the lot of them," Snape commented gloomily.

"Yes, annoying…" He replied half-heartedly, not exactly paying attention as a woman in a low cut dress sauntered by. It wasn't until he was halfway into his second glass of champagne that he heard the familiar shrill cry of a child. He turned his head back toward the stairwell.

For a second, he wasn't sure if he was staring at the same person. The girl he'd been sitting in the study with that morning did _not_ look like that. She was a vision decked in red and gold. He tried to convince himself that he was gawking at a woman and not the child that had stumbled into his Chamber of Secrets. She was beautiful. He shook his head. His mind felt muddled. Perhaps mixing alcohol with whatever medical concoction they had him on for the pain hadn't been such a brilliant idea. Surely it was causing him to hallucinate.

"Yes, I suppose she has that effect on people…" Snape commented dryly.

Salazar was pulled out of his stupor, "I beg your pardon?" Sipping at his own glass of champagne, Severus gestured toward the the founder's hand. Grey eyes shifted downward. The delicate crystal flute had been crushed in his grip and droplets of champagne dribbled down his fingers.

"Allow me," Snape offered, repairing the glass with a flick of his wand.

Salazar thanked the Potions Master offhandedly, searching the room for the female. He watched her flit about the room, greeting everyone in her wake while simultaneously balancing the boy on her hip. The founder caught the child's distracted gaze. The toddler's face lit up and tried to struggle out of his surrogate mother's arms. She shifted her weight, patting the child on the back while attempting to carry on a conversation with that hag of a professor called McGonagall. When the child reached out towards him with his little arms, she finally turned. Feeling particularly brazen, he allowed his grey eyes to travel the length of her body in what he intended to be a deliciously sinful manner.

Hermione excused herself and slowly made her way across the room towards the man. He was looking rather suave in his dress robes and the heated gaze he was sending her way was both intriguing and slightly frightening. She was halfway across the room when someone cut brusquely in front of her and she collided into their chest. Warm hands gripped her shoulders, steadying her.

A cloaked figure loomed over her, "Jeez Granger, already going weak at the knees for me are you?" Draco Malfoy sneered down at her.

"Draco, please refrain from antagonizing the young woman." Lucius Malfoy's silky voice pleaded behind her, "The last thing we need right now is to cause a scene."

Salazar watched the scene play out before him impatiently. His hand tightened over the arm of the chair in annoyance; he didn't take kindly to the way the young man was openly leering at the girl. Others were staring suspiciously at the trio now as well, he noted. It was apparent that the latest arrivals were not favored within the occupants of the household. The girl clearly did not appear too fond of the blonde, judging by the way she eyed him in obvious distaste. Salazar's chest swelled with pride at the sight.

"Your situation has already been explained to the Order." Snape explained to the two men, "You will be allowed to stay for the duration of the holidays. Afterwards, you will be relocated once the dunderheads return to school in the Spring." He turned to address Hermione,"Miss Granger,"

"Yes sir?"

"I believe your presence is required _elsewhere_." The Potions Master hinted.

She silently agreed and pushed past the blonde, making a beeline in Salazar's direction. Draco's gaze landed briefly on the founder. Salazar stared back without falter. The young man appraised him skeptically when the girl came to a stop at his side. The child fought to free himself from her grasp and she set him down onto the floor. 'Demetrius' stumbled over, bracing himself against Salazar's knee. The founder leaned forward and lifted the boy off the ground, depositing him in his lap.

Hermione smiled secretivly to herself and positioned herself on the arm of the chair. She gasped when Salazar suddenly lifted a hand to toy with one of her stray curls. When she turned to snap at him she noticed his gaze was trained on someone across the room. She followed his line of sight carefully, _Malfoy? _She frowned; the bastard was using her to provoke the pompous arse! Astonishingly, it seemed to be working; Draco was fuming. _Hmm_...she saw an opportunity.

She leaned forward provocatively, "Stop trying to incite him, please." She breathed against the shell of his ear.

What was this, now? Salazar was caught off guard by the gesture. This was _his_game. How dare she try to sabotage him. The blonde boy forgotten, he gripped her chin and jerked her head to the side, "If you bend over like that again, you might just incite _me." _He hissed huskily into her ear.

Hermione swatted his hand away in irritation, "Wretched man."

"Wicked witch." He retorted.

Snape approached the pair with the makings of a smile on his face, "Am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all, Severus," Salazar threw the man a disconcerted look, "Miss Granger was just about to storm off in a huff."

And Hermione did just that, despite Demetrius's protests, "You are insufferable!" She spat bitterly over her shoulder. Salazar sunk into his seat in frustration, _wicked witch, indeed_. The girl wreaked havoc on his sanity.

"Looks like you are in dire need of another drink." Snape commented nonchalantly.

"Undoubtedly, as long as it isn't that cheap dragon's piss..." He said referring to the champagne.

The Potions Master chuckled, "Hardly, sir. Have you ever sampled Firewhiskey, by chance?"

"No, I can't say I have." Salazar sighed.

"You're in for quite a treat," Snape loosened the collar of his dress robes, "If you can make it to the study, a colleague of mine managed to procure a few bottles for the night."

Salazar took a deep breath and pushed himself up off the chair.

Snape shouldered him, "Let's see how much of a drinking man you are."

* * *

Hermione spent the rest of the evening fending off mounting rumors of her supposed 'love child'. She cursed Lavender Brown with every pitying look she received. By the end of the night everyone was under the impression that Hermione Granger, the most talented witch of her generation, already had a bouncing baby brat. It was nearing midnight and the masses were starting to dwindle. Molly had taken Demetrius up to bed earlier, leaving his surrogate mother to her own devices. She hadn't noticed Malfoy or his father since their brief interlude. Hermione didn't know whether to be grateful or worried. Snape was M.I.A. as well and Salazar's chair was empty. That didn't bode well at all.

Hermione bid Luna and Neville goodnight before setting out in search of Salazar. She caught walked back into the sitting room. Ginny and Dean Thomas were huddled close together near the fireplace; other than that, the room was vacant. She slipped back out unnoticed, stopping momentarily to lecture Fred and George whom were in the middle of rigging every doorway with mistletoe. In the midst of her harangueing, the sound of boisterous laughter drew her away. _The study_, she thought, _I should've guessed_.

The door was cracked and she peeked in. Four _very _disheveled and _highly_intoxicated men were strewn about the room. Two empty bottles of Firewhiskey sat on the desk. Salazar had a shot glass in his hand and the buttons of his vest and shirt were undone. Snape was in the process of downing a glass of the amber liquid; Lucius and Draco cheered the man on. When she determined she'd seen enough, she pushed the door open. The group of men fell silent, squinting to see whom had the audacity to interrupt their little private after-party.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?" She snapped.

"Ah, Miss Granger! Care to join us? Draco, get the beautiful young lady a glass." Lucius ordered, procuring another bottle of Firewhiskey.

Draco stood up shakily, knocking his knee against the edge of the desk. His depth perception was probably shot to hell by now, "Have you all gone mad?" She exclaimed, lifting the hem of her gown to kick another empty bottle aside. It was amazing they hadn't succumbed to alcohol poisoning. The bottle flew across the floor, nudging Snape's boot. He picked it up and lifted it to his lips, realizing it was empty, he cast it away in disappointment.

"That's enough," She barked, "And as for _you,_" She lashed out at Salazar whom up until this point, had managed to remain relatively safe under the radar.

"Kitten?" He slurred in question.

She plucked the shot glass out of his grasp, ignoring Draco's incessant snickering, "You should know better."

When she tried to hoist him up he grabbed her arm and pulled her down onto his lap, "Let's see what makes this pussycat purr." He rasped.

Hermione wrinkled her nose as the strong scent of alcohol assailed her when he spoke, "Let me go, you're drunk!"

Salazar chuckled, "Good observation, Kitten."

Hermione extracted herself from his grasp and using all her strength she forced him to stand up, berating herself for having left her wand upstairs, "This party is over." She declared. Salazar grumbled incoherently as she lugged him through the- fortunately- vacant sitting room, "After I throw your arse in bed I'm going to pour every one of Professor Snape's hangover potions down the drain so you four morons can suffer for your stupidity." Her movements stilled. _Oh Merlin, no..._ She glanced up. A sprig of white berries dangled menacingly overhead. Damn Fred and George, she had walked right into their trap. Hermione didn't realize her vital mistake until a wall of magic had already boxed her in.

"What s'matter?" Salazar mumbled against her neck.

"Nothing," She ground out, leaning against the doorframe. Goodness, the man was heavy. He slumped toward her and his lips pressed against her collarbone, "Stop it, now is not the time for your games."

Salazar pressed himself into her form, his breath ghosting over her skin, "_Wicked, wicked, _witch." He muttered before crushing his lips against hers.

She gasped and her heart thrummed loudly inside her chest. He maneuvered himself so that he could use the doorframe for support, breaking the kiss only to trail his lips along her jawline before returning to capture her mouth once more. Her eyes slid shut and she found herself entwining her arms around his neck. Her mind rallied against her body's response to his advances, but she shoved the niggling voice aside for once. His hands caressed the smooth skin of her back and she arched into him, moaning. He took advantage by escalating the kiss.

The strong taste of whiskey invaded her mouth and she broke away, panting, "We should stop." She murmured half-heartedly as his mouth found its way to her neck.

"You don't mean that." He growled and nipped at her skin.

It was enough to break her out of her trance, "Yes, **I do_._**" She shoved herself away from him.

He groaned and banged the back of his head against the doorframe, "Honestly, woman, you are a pain in the arse."

Hermione gapped at him, "And _you_ are a wanker." She snarled, abandoning him and stomping up the stairs.

Salazar swayed a bit before sinking to the floor. His vision blurred and then he knocked out all together.

* * *

End Note: WOW, that was a long chapter. Sorry for the delay, but my personal life has been CRAZY. Anyway, Merry Chistmas & a Happy New Year to all my readers! I hope your holidays are a blast, be safe!

Until my next update, Best wishes!

Meow-Mix-91


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 12: Lesson Learned**

Salazar awoke to a splintering headache. He _had _downed over ten shots of Firewhiskey as far as he could recall. He assessed his surroundings blearily. He angled his head back..._mistletoe_? It all came flooding back to him.

"Oh bugger." He'd kissed the little bint in his drunken stupor and she'd left him here to rot for reasons unknown. His hands twitched, yearning to caress her satiny skin again. It was a euphoric experience, _exhilarating_. It disturbed him; these feelings. It _had_ been a long time since he'd had a woman, he surmised. That sufficed, didn't it?

Having made sense of last night's events, he released a strangled sigh. Now, on to the matter at hand; how to get upstairs? He'd worry about what had prompted the girl to desert him later. Coincidentally enough, he heard the front door creak open. The youngest of the Weasley brood tip-toed into the house, hair askew and looking very much the picture of satisfaction. He recognized that look all too well. He cleared his throat in order to catch her attention and she jumped.

"What the bloody hell are _you_ doing down here?" Ginny hissed, eyes darting around frantically.

"Don't fret, everyone is still asleep," He grinned roguishly, "and from the looks of it, you could use some rest too since it's quite apparent you didn't get much."

She blushed furiously, "Shut up!" Ginny squeaked.

"Help me upstairs and I'll pretend I never saw you." Salazar offered. The redhead was quick to accept and she shuffled him up the stairs as quickly and _quietly_ as possible.

"So, what'd you do this time to piss her off?" Ginny asked after catching him cast a sidelong glance at Hermione's door.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well," Ginny started, pushing his bedroom door open, "I happened to be on my way _out_when one minute you two are snogging each other's brains out and the next she's calling you a wanker. I've never seen her so peeved."

Salazar groaned, well that was no help at all...and what the bloody hell was a _wanker_? "I cannot remember for the life of me." He admitted after she'd deposited him onto the mattress.

"Right, good luck with that. I'm going to bed."

Salazar watched the girl slip out the door before easing himself down onto the bed. He tore off his shirt and slid underneath the sheets with every intention of sleeping off his hangover. He heard a door open down the hall followed by the sound of hurried footsteps. He cracked an eyed open. He had hoped to deal with the chit at a later point in time in when he was more sound of mind. However, it would seem that she had plans of her own. He weighed his options carefully. Salazar rolled over on his side. She could wait.

* * *

Hermione moaned angrily into her pillow. Another sleepless night, no thanks to that idiot of a man. Harsh whispers were exchanged in the hallway outside her room and she strained to hear. _Ginny? _What was Ginny doing up so early? She was usually the last to rise, especially after a night of partying. The person she was conversing with, however, was entirely unexpected. She waited until she heard the door to Ginny's room close before slipping out of bed. She padded down the hall, clearly not thinking things through. Frustration clouded her judgement.

When she crept into his room to find him asleep, to say she was disappointed would've been an understatement. Instead of returning to her room, she shut the door and cast a Silencio. She then proceeded to transfigure the closest thing she could find into a glass. One _Aguamenti_ later, she tipped the glass over and its contents splashed on Salazar's face. He shot up in bed, coughing.

Wiping his face, he snarled at her, "What in Merlin's name is your problem?"

"**You** are my problem!" She shoved him in the chest.

Salazar caught her by the wrist and yanked her into the bed. She struggled to free herself from his grasp. He rolled her over, pinning her against the mattress with his body, "Let me go or I'll scream." She threatened deceitfully.

"No," He smirked down at her.

Hermione inhaled deeply and he kissed her. She froze in terror and he pulled back, "I apologize," he started, "Forgive me for whatever I may have done last night to offend you. I wasn't in my right state of mind."

"You said I was a pain in the arse." She helped him to refresh his apparently addled memory, "After I insisted that we stop."

Salazar felt bile rise in his throat and he suppressed the urge to vomit, "I am truly sorry, _Hermione_." He lifted himself off her.

Hermione, was it now; "Why did you kiss me?" She sat up.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you looked absolutely desirable last night, and I suppose the Firewhiskey didn't help matters."

Hermione blushed profusely, "Ah...well, thank you, and I can understand that you were under the influence," She stammered, "-but I was talking about right now."

Salazar mentally stumbled, "Oh," he chuckled, "I needed to shut you up somehow, didn't I?"

She glared at him, grabbing a pillow and smacking Salazar over the head with it. He grunted, seizing the thing and hitting her back none too gently. She toppled over and he attacked her, tickling her sides. Laughing madly, Hermione begged him to stop, "Alright, alright! You win!" She shouted.

He ceased in his torture, "Very well, but only if you answer one question."

"What?" She panted out.

"What's a _wanker_?"

She laughed and Salazar couldn't help but think how lovely she looked. He shook his head to rid himself of the thought, agitating his migraine. His hands came up to massage his temples. Hermione pushed herself up off the mattress and kneeled in front of him. He eyed her curiously and she gave him a reassuring smile. She placed her fingertips against the sides of his skull and pressed gently. There was a quick surge of magic and she pulled away; his headache was gone.

"Fascinating," He said incredulously.

Hermione shrugged, "A little something I developed after all the late night studying."

"You know, Miss Granger, for being such _Gryffindor_, your intelligence is quite the compensation."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I'll take that as a compliment." She replied, and pinched his cheek, "I think it's fair to say you owe me an animagus lesson now, more than ever."

"Indeed," He began before an ear-splitting yell shook the house.

"MISS GRANGER!" She'd followed through on her promise and had emptied Snape's entire collection of hangover potions down the drain before going to bed. It would appear that he'd happened upon her dirty work.

"Perhaps we should reschedule?" Salazar suggested.

Hermione sighed, "Agreed..."

* * *

"You insufferable little know-it-all; how dare you tamper with my potions!" Snape bellowed when Hermione walked into the kitchen to find him retrieving empty potion vials from the sink, "As punishment, you are to brew up a new batch this INSTANT!" He ordered.

"Severus would you kindly SHUT UP!" Lucius shouted, dragging himself into the room. Draco trailed behind, grumbling in agreement. The Malfoy men escaped into the dining room, taking a seat at the table. She stared at them, perplexed. Where was the Mrs. Malfoy; she wondered.

Salazar hobbled into the kitchen after her, his breathing labored, "You idiot!" She snapped and ushered him into the dining hall so that he could sit.

"DAMNIT, GRANGER! EASY ON THE YELLING!" Draco roared.

She rounded on Draco,"Shut up, Ferret, no one had you drinking. The same goes for the lot of you! You all deserve what you get." They shushed her simultaneously, cradling their heads. Salazar shot her a sympathetic look, "What?"

"Have mercy, Kitten." Draco snorted at the petname and she sent him a glare. Hermione sighed resolutely and healed the three men hastily. Touching Snape was a rather awkward affair and she hoped she'd never have to do it again. The Potion's Master shared her sentiments. Lucius' turn was less unpleasant and more intimidating. She avoided his gaze. Then there was Draco...she made sure to press considerably harder on his temples than anyone else's and he flinched, much to her amusement.

Molly bustled into the dining room, yelping in surprise at the sight of the Slytherin congregation,"What are you all doing up so early?"

"Being prats." Hermione answered promptly before feeling someone pinch her backside. She squeaked, blushing.

"Hermione dear, what's wrong? Do you have a fever, you look positively flushed."

"No-no," She stuttered, "I'm fine." Salazar's lips contorted into a grin, he was feeling exceptionally mischievous today.

"Well, I need to make dinner, so out with the lot of you!" Molly ordered.

"Dinner? Molly it isn't even noon."

"Yes I'm _quite_aware of that, Lucius." She replied haughtily, "There's to be an Order meeting this evening. I take it you've forgotten." Lucius' silence was answer enough and Molly booted them all out of the room.

* * *

The Dark Lord paced the length of his room fluidly. A knock at his door, he turned swiftly, eyes glowing as red as hot coals. Fire crackled sharply in the hearth as he rasped out permission to enter. Rodolphus Lestrange appeared, dragging a dirt-smeared, female in after him. Throwing her to the floor, she sobbed, tattered rags hanging off her lithe form. He kneeled in front of the woman, his black robe draped around him like a dark waterfall. He lifted the woman's chin with a skeletal index finger. Staring down at her tear stained face, he gently smoothed back the strands of matted blonde hair.

"_My dearest Narcissa, tsk, tsk , tsk._" Voldemort clucked his tongue at the pitiful sight, "W_e have a dilemma. Three of my highest ranked Death Eaters seem to have disappeared, your darling husband,_" Narcissa choked, "-_and your dear son, included. Now, any ideas as to where, or better yet, why, those two have gone?_"

Narcissa's sobs escalated, "_Hmm, I'll take that as a no. Such a... __**PITY!**_" He backhanded her, "_They've abandoned you, Narcissa, left you here to perish...you owe them nothing. So, if you know of their whereabouts, I advise that you enlighten me and save me the trouble of having to find out by force._"

Pushing herself up shakily off the cobblestoned floor, blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth. She stared at him in cold defence. Voldemort's thin lips curled into a sneer. So it was to be the hard way, "_You impudent whore._" He cursed with a sadistic smile, "_Legilimens!"_

She screeched out in vain, clutching her head. Tears streamed in rivulets down the sides of her face. He filtered through her memories while she screamed, feebly trying to shield her mind. He extracted himself from her mind with a sharp pull that made her whimper. She knew nothing; the wretch was useless.

"_And you. Any news from our little spy?_" He addressed Rodolphus.

"Severus, Lucius, and the boy have taken up refuge with the Order, sire."

Voldemort grinned, staring back down at Narcissa's mangled form, and immediately broke out into a sickening laugh, "_Anything else?_"

"Well, there is one more thing, sire..."

"_Do not test my patience, spit it out._"

"There is a man within their ranks whom Potter's mudblood calls Salazar."

"_And?_"

"He is a very powerful being; his magic is an ancient one."

Voldemort tapped his chin thoughtfully with the tip of his wand, "_Whatever this power is, it must be of no threat to me or else the Order would've harnessed it long ago. However, continue monitoring this Salazar and report to me should anything deemed of considerable interest arise._"

"Yes, my lord, and what of the wench?" Rodolphus nudged the woman with the tip of his boot.

"_Return this piece of filth to the dungeons._"

* * *

Hermione bounced Demetrius on her knee. Salazar was propped up on her bed. It was half past noon and her stomach grumbled. Molly had barred the residents of Grimmauld from the kitchen, so everyone was left to feast on the humble bowl of fruit. Basically, they were expected to starve until evening. Despite her mounting hunger, her mind was elsewhere. While satisfied with the conversation she'd shared with Salazar earlier that morning, the stunt he pulled in the dining room had her at a loss.

"Salazar..." She spoke. Warning signals went off in his brain. He knew that tone, that was the infamous "We need to talk" voice. He'd already apologized so what more was there to discuss? Salazar braced himself.

"What are your intentions towards me?"

_Intentions..._Did he even _have_ intentions when it came to her? He'd never really entertained any thoughts beyond the physical, to be honest. There was no way he could actually have a _relationship_ with this girl, no, this _child_. Because, that's what she was; a child. She couldn't have been a day over eighteen and he was going on what; over one thousand? It was just _wrong_. While he inhabited the body of his twenty-year old self, mentally he was an old man. He'd been lost in transition, or so it would seem. Having his youth restored affected his reasoning. Then he'd look at her and his blood would heat up.

"I'm don't know." He muttered more to himself than to her.

"You don't...know." She repeated slowly, "How can you not know?"

"Why; what did you _want_ me to say?" Salazar teased.

Hermione wasn't amused, "I'm not your new toy, _sir._" Demetrius crawled across the bed towards the man and frowned, _traitor_.

He sighed, "I enjoy your company. I have an acute weakness for intelligent, beautiful women. In the short time we've spent together, you've succeeded in crawling under my skin. I would like to indulge myself in you if you will have me. As for an actual relationship, that I cannot promise."

She nodded in understanding, so he was the 'no strings attached' kind of man, she wasn't surprised, "You won't have me falling at your feet like the pathetic creatures of your past. So as cliche as it may sound, unless your intentions are _noble_ count me out."

Salazar smiled. He knew she'd say that. She was not that kind of woman; she deserved better. He was content in simply knowing her. She was an entertaining little thing, "I can respect that. On to a less uncomfortable subject; am I to teach you how to become an animagi or not?"

Hermione couldn't have agreed more. "I would appreciate it." She said.

"Let's get started then."

"What? Now?"

"No better time than the present,"

* * *

An hour later, Hermione was standing in the middle of the room, looking her same, simple, human self. Salazar was growing weary of this particular venture and was about to call it quits for the day. He closed his eyes, _"Clear your thoughts, think nothing, feel nothing." _His master's words ebbed against the banks of his mind.

"Clear your thoughts, think nothing, feel nothing." He recited aloud.

Hermione was perplexed, "What?"

"Save your questions, just do as I say," Salazar instructed sharply.

She did as she was told. Emptying her head of any and every thought, she blocked out the universe. Her heart fluttered beneath her breast. She felt it, with each beat, a pulse of magic flowed through her. Something animalistic overtook her, and then she crumpled to the floor. She heard screaming somewhere off in the distance.

Salazar had originally been joking when he'd said the first time would be painful. It was until recently that he realized it actually _was_. He cast a silencing charm over the room and spelled the door to slam shut, making sure the lock clicked in place. So this was what he'd looked like during the course of his first transformation. A knock at the door and a jiggle of the handle, someone had heard her cries. He ignored the persistent banging, furrowing his brow as he watched. _How utterly unexpected, _he admitted as he eyed the creature splayed across the floor. He waved his hand and removed the wards on the door and the Potter and Weasley boys came barging in.

"What's going on in here!" Harry demanded advancing on Salazar.

"Ha-Harry..." Ron stuttered.

"Where's Hermione? I swear if you've hurt her I'll-"

"HARRY!" Ron nearly shrieked.

"What Ron?" Harry rounded on the redhead.

"Lo-look." Ron pointed shakily. The blood drained from Harry's face at the sight.

"Open your eyes." Salazar commanded. Golden orbs gleamed menacingly. The floorboards creaked under the creature's weight as it strode over on all fours. The black stripes lining its coat rippled at the movement. Its tail twitched, flicking from side to side.

"What's with all the yell- the hell! Where'd the bloody tiger come from!" Draco yelped, having come upstairs to investigate the source of all the ruckus.

The feline's eyes twinkled with mirth. Glancing at Salazar questioningly, a rumble resounded in its chest, "Relinquish your hold; that is how you can revert back." Shutting its eyes, it morphed.

"That...was bloody brilliant Mione." Ron uttered, staring in shock at the girl smiling victoriously on the floor.

Harry helped her up, "A tiger? It suites you, I suppose." Hermione laughed weakly.

"I must say, Granger, not too bad. I always figured you for a chinchilla though, all that hair." Draco commented snidely.

She let the remark fly over her head. She was too thrilled at her latest achievement to care.

* * *

Later that evening, Hermione found herself shoved towards the back of the dining room. Salazar sat in a chair to her right. Molly had mentioned to them at dinner that they were to attend the meeting that night. Hermione couldn't help but feel apprehensive. There was obviously a specific reason for their required attendance. Snape rose,"The matter at hand to discuss now is who will replace me as Potions professor and Slytherin Head of House thus upcoming term."

"Severus, what are you going on about?" Remus asked, startled.

"Indeed, lad, what are you thinking?" Moody piped up.

"With my betrayal, I cannot return to my post at Hogwarts, and neither can Draco. We will be sought after. Hogwarts will be the first place they look. I've already discussed this with Minerva, she is inclined to agree. Horace has apparently showed no desire in continuing on for another year and has fled once more into hiding."

"Well that's all fine and dandy; any prospects, Severus?" Tonks posed.

Snape stared pointedly toward the back of the room at Salazar.

Draco followed his line of sight, curiously, "What? _Him..?_ Who the bloody hell are you anyway?"

Lucius whacked his son over the head, "Draco, your mother and I brought you up better than that." Draco's eyes flashed in pain and he was promptly silenced, "He does have a point, though Severus, I don't believe we were ever properly introduced."

Salazar threw a careful glance at Snape. The Potions Master nodded in a silent reply, "Salazar Slytherin," Salazar announced, "Founder of Slytherin House, at your service."

* * *

End Note: Yes, yes, I'm back, with many apologies for the long wait. Life decided to through in a rather large distraction of the _male_ kind. That coupled with school, and then summer classes, gave me little time to focus on writing. However, I've spent the last few days writing non-stop, practically, just to get this out. Don't worry, loves, I won't abandon these stories anytime soon, that I can promise, however, I won't be updating as frequently as in the past, but when I do, rest assured I'll make sure the chapters are long and worth the wait.

So, Sal is going back to home sweet Hogwarts as Slytherin Head of House. (Any more H's & might've invented a new tongue-twister, haha.) I look forward to writing a few classroom scenes. This particular chapter wasn't properly beta-ed partially because I wanted to get it out as soon as possible. Hopefully it turned out fine and doesn't require any major editing, but you all will be the judge of that, I suppose. Go easy on me, it's been a while since I last wrote.

Thank You for sticking with me all these months and I hope to hear from you all again soon!

Meow-Mix-91


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 13: As the World Falls Down**

Hermione shifted her weight nervously. Lucius and Draco stared incredulously at Salazar. She was debating whether the looks on their faces were ones of disbelief or horror, perhaps a mixture of both. Snape conjured up a cup of black coffee.

Draco regained control of his vocal cords, "Uh…what?" was all he managed to croak out.

"Room of Resurrection, I take it? Can nothing remain a myth anymore..." Lucius chuckled.

"Room of Resurrection? Father, you can't honestly believe this loon." Draco protested.

Salazar frowned, "Watch your words, boy."

"Chamber of Secrets, Room of Resurrection, next I suppose you'll be telling me there's a bloody Cup of Immortality…" Hermione grumbled. It really was rather ridiculous. She was disinclined to believe it herself it were not for the fact that she had actually witnessed the man's rebirth.

"Actually," Salazar began.

"Salazar Slytherin, don't you dare." Hermione admonished. Now was not the time to be joking.

He grinned, "I jest, my dear, apparently your sense of humor is lacking this evening."

"Enough," Snape barked.

"So, I take it that the reason for your revival, my Lord, is all thanks to Miss Granger here." Lucius stared at her pointedly.

Salazar internally preened, it's about time someone addressed him by his proper title, "Indeed." He replied.

"Why am I not surprised?" Lucius smirked, seemingly convinced. Hermione smiled secretively to herself, that's about as close as she'd ever come to a compliment from Lucius Malfoy.

Draco continued to stare at the self-proclaimed Salazar Slytherin searching for evidence to satisfy his disbelief. The Manor housed many a portrait, and being the prodigal sons of Slytherin that they were, the Malfoys made it a point to own an original painting of their respective founder. Draco struggled to find familiarity in the man's features. It was his eyes, Draco finally concluded. He could remember staring into the artist's rendition on more than one occasion in the past. They were grey, knowledgeable, and cold with age. It was unfathomable, though. He'd seen him and Granger acting rather _chummy _around each other. While it didn't make sense, he could not deny that this man was indeed the founder of his house.

"Now that introductions are over with, I'd appreciate it if we returned to discussing the matter at hand." Snape's left eye twitched in irritation, "If you are willing to undertake the position of Head of House, you will be accompanying the brats back to school, under an assumed alias of your choice." The former professor addressed Hermione next, "Miss Granger, the Order has determined that he is to be put under your charge for the duration of term.

Hermione sighed; well that wasn't entirely unexpected. Not only was she charged with basically _babysitting_ the man, she had N.E.W.T.S. to study for. It was making out to be a stressful second half of the school year already. There was still the minute chance that Salazar _wouldn't_take Snape up on his offer. He was far too prideful to be forced to take on a false name, wasn't he? She sorely hoped so because she was not looking forward to spending her spare time helping _him_ as opposed to doing homework or reading a good book. She hadn't done that in a while; read a book for leisure...

Unfortunately for Hermione, however, Salazar was fully intent upon accepting Severus' offer the moment the words left the man's mouth. He was eager to return to the castle; there were many things left unfinished that required his attending to, "Very well, I accept."

* * *

Upon his agreement to fill in as Potions Professor, Salazar and Hermione were dismissed with promises of being provided more information at a later point in time. The pair gravitated towards the study, or rather, Hermione did. Due to his handicap, Salazar had no choice but to go along seeing as how the girl was his human crutch. He studied the pensive look on her face after she'd deposited him in a chair. She appeared to be in deep thought. He pondered over whether or not to interrupt her. What could be troubling the girl now? More than that; why did he even care? It was none of his business

Nevertheless, he was curious, "A sickle for your thoughts?"

Hermione started, "Sorry...?"

Salazar cleared his throat, "You seem distressed."

Hermione 'hmmph'-ed, "Just thinking is all…"

"About…?" He persisted, smirking when he was rewarded with one of her narrow-eyed glares.

She bent her legs in so that her chin could rest atop her knees. He really was nosy, "If you must know, I was thinking about you."

Salazar quirked an eyebrow, "Really, now? I'm flattered..." She rolled her eyes, "What _about_ me?" He asked.

Hermione shrugged, "Just wondering how you'll manage to situate yourself back into life at Hogwarts." She mumbled distantly,"Nothing is the same, you know." She glanced at him.

"Apparently." He concurred, "I'll survive...I always have."

Hermione smiled.

* * *

Christmas Eve descended upon Grimmauld Place with plenty of eggnog to go around and a fresh blanket of snowfall. However, despite Molly Weasley's valiant efforts at maintaining the holiday cheer, the air of uneasiness was thicker than ever. Hermione sat alone in the dining room, watching people flit to and fro while occasionally taking a sip of her hot chocolate- courtesy of Remus. She couldn't help but wonder if life would ever revert back to normal again. A few years ago her list of priorities consisted of things like passing the N.E.W.T.S. and finding a decent boyfriend. _So much for that last bit_, she thought darkly, snorting.

"Bloody hell, Granger, someone spike your punch?" Draco sauntered into the room.

Hermione chose to remain silent in hopes that if she ignored him, he'd get bored and go away. Alas, it merely had the opposite effect as Draco pulled up a chair. He positioned himself across, a shot glass of Firewhiskey in his hand. She grimaced, "You dolts had best not get yourself piss-drunk again. Next time, I shant be so merciful."

Draco smirked ruefully. He placed the glass down onto the table and slid it over to her carefully, "You looked in desperate need of something stronger."

She twisted her mouth, eyeing the offering in mild suspicion. She lifted the glass to the light. The amber colored liquid looked innocent enough...then again, Draco would've had to have been a complete moron to try and poison her here. She wasn't particularly fond of whiskey, Fire or otherwise. _Tis' the Season_, she mused and emptied the contents of the glass into her cup of hot chocolate. She drank the concoction idly, choking at the uncomfortable burning sensation in her throat. If anything, it at least warmed her up, "I doubt that you've been influenced by the Spirit of Giving, so what is it exactly that you seek to gain by kissing my arse?"

He leaned back and propped his feet up onto the tabletop, "My, my, my, not only has the war made you ridiculously paranoid; you've started to swear like a sailor."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "You seem to forget the fact that my two best mates are male." She replied pointedly.

"Ah but Granger, I must protest; Weasley hardly constitutes as male."

Hermione glared at him over her cup, allowing her gaze to drift. She stared at Salazar through the double dining room doors. He was seated in the sitting room conversing with Snape, presumably over lesson plans and inventory. She still couldn't fathom the idea of him in a classroom. He was attractive..._very_attractive and was sure to be quite popular amidst the female residents of Hogwarts. It would be Gilderoy Lockhart all over again.

Draco caught her sidelong glance, "Got a thing for old men? Now that I think about it, I always did notice you perk up considerably whenever Dumbledore walked into the room."

A disgusted look descended upon her features, "Bugger off Malfoy." She could already feel the potent alcohol taking affect. Wizarding spirits tended to cause intoxication a lot easier than muggle ones. Hermione felt her eyelids grow heavy and her mind go hazy.

"You look positively pissed," Draco laughed, "Shall I call your keeper?" He nodded in Salazar direction.

She downed the rest of her drink and moved to stand. The room spun and she shook her head to rid herself of the feeling. Draco watched her bemusedly as she made her way into the kitchen to dispose of the empty mug in the sink. She miraculously managed to make it without bumping into anything. In her partially drunken stupor, she came to lean against the edge of the counter, her eyes dropping to the floor. What kind of a poor excuse for a Christmas was this? It was stupid, trying to pretend like the world wasn't falling apart around them at their feet. Her vision blurred; she missed her family. She had never felt so empty.

Shortly after she'd dissapeared into the kitchen, Draco followed after her. He found her, startled at the sight of tears streaming down her face. Quite uncharacteristically, words failed him. He shuffled closer to her form, tentatively placing a hand on her shoulder in a feeble attempt at comfort. He flinched when she choked out a sob.

What a perfectly pathetic picture she must have made...it was obviously enough to make Draco Malfoy feel obligated to console her. It was enough to undo her. Hermione slid to the floor in a heap and proceeded to bawl into her hands.

Draco could only stare in horror as the woman fell to pieces.

* * *

Salazar listened intently as Snape verbally listed the contents of his storage closet. He was quite enthused to hear of many new ingredients that were previously unavailable to him. Snape went on to explain their relative uses. Apparently, there was a potion for everything nowadays; it really was utterly convenient. He waited as the Potions Professor manifested a black, dragon-hide bound, book. He set it down on the coffee table situated between them.

"This journal contains my notes on-and revisions of-both personal and pre-developed potions; what ingredient works best in opposition to others, optimum temperatures, time trials for perfect potency, things of that nature. In other words, my life's work, please take care to protect it. I do only have the one copy." Snape divulged. Salazar bent forward and retrieved the notebook. He thumbed through the yellowed parchment pages. The man was very well learned in his discipline, he conceded while reading through the notations. The spidery handwriting skimmed the length of the page, detailed with depictions.

Snape scrutinized the man, "While I have you here, mind educating me a bit further on the workings of your Room of Resurrection? Why is it that the presence of blood activated the magic?"

Salazar shut the journal with a snap, drumming his fingers on the cover and mulling things over. "I can discern that, despite our short time spent in eachother's company, you are a man whom I can entrust my secrets; that and the comforting notion that I now hold in my possession a rather valuable personal item of yours..."

Snape's mouth twitched, "Of course, my_ Lord_..." He replied in mock respect.

"Very well, but please take head to keep this conversation between us..."

"You have my word."

Salazar sighed, "The magic in the Room works of its own accord, you see." He started.

"Forgive me when I say I do not fully comprehend what you mean." Snape stated, perplexed.

"While the reasons for my self-imposed imprisonment are..._obvious_, the knowledge you seek likes in the room's construction, and the process by which I was able to sit before you day, does it not?"

"Correct." Snape affirmed.

Pausing, Salazar contemplated, "The Room itself was already in existence long before the time of the castle's erection. I merely utilized it for my own purposes, building my Chamber of Secrets around it." He struggled to explain, "There are certain _regions_ around the world where natural magic is present. It is unrefined, _powerful_, and uncontrollable."

"A 'hot spot' of sorts, you mean?" Snape interceded.

"I beg your pardon?"

"A hot spot; a muggles term used to refer to areas in which a lot of -typically natural- activity of a particular type takes place."

"Ah, well then yes, I suppose that would be one way to describe it." Salazar assented, "As I was saying, this _raw_manifestation of magic may be harvested, but at a grat risk. The slightest mistake can cause the catalysis of a potentially fatal reaction...or so I discovered in my ambitions to contain it for myself."

Snape's interest piqued as Salazar went on, "In my research, I learned the area had been previously occupied by muggle druids. While non-magic folk are completely inept, they still retain within then that potential that Wizardry evolved from- hence the presence of muggleborn witches and wizards." An image of Hermione entered his mind and he brushed it off, "This potential that I speak of is the ability to recognize the supernatural, which, in turn, attracts them to these magical-as you say- 'hot spots'."

"Indeed this would serve to explain a few things, but what about the distinction between Purebloods and the rest of wizarding society?" Severus posed thoughtfully.

"Allow me to let you in on a little secret." Salazar chuckled, "There really is no such thing as a "Pureblood". We are all just more refined versions of humanity; members of the same group, merely a different species that managed to evolve through Merlin."

"Interesting..."

Salazar smirked, "Isn't it? Now, if I may proceed- the castle is built amidst crags of rock and mountainous regions, most of which house multiple inlets in the form of caverns. During one of my perusals of the surrounding grounds, I happened onto the entrance to what I would later refer to as the Room of Resurrection."

* * *

_Mud caked onto the hem of Salazar Slytherin's robes as he trudged along the lakeshore. The sun reflected off the water's murky surface, but it did little to fend off the early morning chill. Hands clasped behind his back, he continued onward, going through a list in his mind. There were still a few things left to be done before Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would be allowed to open its doors to the youth of wizarding society. His days of late were spent overseeing the completion of construction on the castle: a rather arduous task in his opinion compared to his fellow founders. When Helga was not in the kitchens, she was filing out orders for furnishing. Rowena catalogued books for the library and Gryffindor sat on his arse, going through lists of prospective students._

_His footfalls ceased. His nose wrinkled in distaste as a peculiar odor permeated the air. He sniffed lightly, following the scent until it led him to what, presumably, was the source. He eyed cavern entrance curiously, wondering what within was giving off such a rotten stench. Brandishing his wand, he decided to venture inside to find out. There was a rush of wind; it howled through the cave eerily and he hesitated. He berated himself for his cowardice and pushed onward, the breeze tugging him forth._

_He entered the cavern, taking caution as to where he stepped. The ground was littered with rocks, some slick with algae after high tide. The further he ventured, the darker it got. The smell grew heavier as well, weighing down upon his senses. He cast a lumos, shielding his nose from the assaulting atmosphere with his sleeve. Something crunched harshly beneath his foot. He lifted it, aiming his wand to investigate. At first glance, he assumed it to be old pottery remnants; the land had once been home to muggle tribes long ago._

_Indeed, it was remnants, but that of a human...it was a skull. Salazar stepped back, his mouth setting into a grim line. He aimed his wand skyward, shooting off a blast of light that illuminated the entire cavern. Piles of bone littered the floor, a startling amount that made even his stomach lurch. He perused the mass gravesite, stopping when his eyes set on a strange structure in the middle of the cave. He navigated his way through the human remains, nudging aside whatever stray femur or rib that crossed his path. He stepped into the clearing, just beyond where the earth spiraled into ornate carvings. Three immense stone pillars encircled the space, a pedestal resting at its center._

_He kneeled, brushing his fingertips along the carvings outlined in the ground. A sharp pain shot through his arm; he nicked his hand on an unseen blade that protruded from one of the nearby carcasses. He cursed. Droplets of blood dribbled out of the wound. The surrounding atmosphere seemed to spark to life. Salazar shot up, terrified as he watched his blood trace through the floor pattern of its own accord. What little light that was being produced from his wand was extinguished and refused to come back to life. He tried to heal his wound, panic twisting his stomach into knots when no comforting glow emitted from his instrument._

_The activity in the cavern ceased. Salazar stood stalk-still, unsure of whether or not to move, afraid that the consequences of doing so would incite another reaction. His hand twitched, fingers curling in slowly. When nothing happened, he turned around carefully, feeling for the wall in the darkness. He stumbled back through the cave toward the entrance. His heart palpitated beneath his breast. The light of day washed over him as he all but threw himself into the open air, inhaling deeply. His feet carried him swiftly back up the path to the castle._

* * *

"It wouldn't be until sometime later that I would discover the workings of the cavern and the magic within." Salazar spoke tensely, "Through my research, I learned that the particular group of muggles that had previously inhabited the area were Celtic druids. They must have attributed the cavern's unique aura to the workings of their gods and in their desperation, utilized the site for their sacrifices during the western siege of the Roman Empire.

Magic is a fascinating thing. It is easily susceptible to change. The more passionate the castor, the more potent the spell. Magic feeds off the _magi's_ energy. We are hosts; _vessels_ that house magic, magic that we are taught to manipulate, magic that can be _controlled, _contrary to the magic I experienced that magic is fueled by our lifeforce because that is what it has been limited to, whereas the magic in that cave _mutated_...having been the site of a vast amount of bloodshed, it was only fitting that blood be required to activate it. Frightening, is it not...?"

"Absolutely remarkable..." Snape breathed, "You never spoke of this to anyone?"

Salazar yawned, "Never. The consequences of doing so would have been dire. If someone were to ever develop a way to harness natural magic, the results would be...to say the least...catastrophic."

"Without a doubt...My Lord, you mentioned that the results of dabbling with such magic can result in...fatality. Am I to assume that this is what caused your demise?"

Salazar grinned humorlessly. A clock chimed eleven from somewhere in the house as the fire consumed the very last yule log. Candles floated around Molly's Christmas tree, the ornaments glinting in the light. Gifts wrapped in colorful parchment surrounded the base of the tree. He fought back a second yawn. It had been quite a long time since he had last celebrated the Yuletide season, "My exact words were '_potentially_fatal', the actions did not go without repercussions, however..."

"And these _repercussions_," Snape prodded carefully, "What were they...?"

"That-"

Draco trampled into the room noisily, "Oi...er...YOU!" He addressed the founder rudely.

"-is a story for another time." Salazar concluded, successfully terminating the conversation, "I have a name, _boy._" He sneered at Draco.

Snape could have strangled the brat for interrupting at the most pivotal of moments, "What in Merlin's name do you want, Draco?" He growled.

"It's Granger, she's lost it!"

The two men shot eachother a look before simultaneously speaking; "What did you do?"

Draco grimaced, "Oh for fuck's sake, it wasn't my doing. She just, I don't know, one minute we're talking the next she's on the kitchen floor crying her bloody eyes out." Salazar sighed gruffly, standing up, and ordered the boy to show him to the girl.

* * *

They found Hermione exactly as Draco had left her- in a mangled heap on the kitchen floor. She didn't bother looking up when the two walked into the room. Sniffling, she continued to stare blankly at the hardwood paneled floor, "I told you, she's gone off her rocker." Draco muttered discreetly into Salazar's ear.

Salazar pushed himself away from the blonde and hobbled over to the young woman, using the counter-top for support, "Leave us," He commanded. Draco shuffled out of the room, but not before he shot one last parting glance at the girl.

Salazar eased himself down next to her, "What's it like…?" She mumbled absentmindedly.

"I beg your pardon...?"

"Death," She replied, "What's it like?" The thought had been plaguing her for quite sometime now and she figured who better to ask than someone whom had just returned from the dead.

"Why do you insist upon asking such a morbid question on an eve of festivity?"

Hermione frowned, "Why must _you_ insist on answering a question with a question?"- that was not she wanted to hear.

He chuckled, "Off to bed with you, lest- what did you muggles call him-Saint Nicholas?" When she nodded, he went on, "Yes, if he arrives and finds you here then I wouldn't anticipate any presents under the tree with your name on them."

"Stop patronizing me." She wanted to smile, but refused to allow him the gratification.

"Stop wasting your tears." He shot back; then, her eyes grew glassy once more, "Very well then, cry continuously if you must, but before you start in on it again, why don't you assist me up the stairs to my room?" He suggested, hoping that he could provoke her out of her morose state by pissing her off.

"Levitate yourself." She snapped.

_Success! _"Ah, I would, but you see, I fear I find myself incapable at the moment." He explained.

Hermione pulled herself up off the ground, grasping the man's outstretched arm. Lifting him alongside her, she shouldered his weight and started to walk. She hadn't the energy to argue anymore; she was tired. She would help him up the stairs and then had every intention of collapsing into bed, dayclothes and all. This was sure to go down as the worst Christmas of all time if it wasn't to be her last, that is. They made it onto the landing, safely, and she escorted Salazar down the hall to his room. He retracted his arm from across her shoulder and hobbled the remaining distance from the doorway to the bed where he sat down. When she turned to leave, he stopped her.

"Stay."

Her throat constricted and her hands balled into tiny fists. Her nails dug into her palms. Hermione turned to look at him. His jaw was set firmly, his gaze unwavering. "Only for tonight..." She relented. She treaded mechanically, across the room, rounding the corner of his bed to the other side. Crawling onto the mattress, she lay down, her back to him, comforted by the mere fact that he was _there_, that _someone_ was there. She didn't want to be alone, nobody wanted to be alone, not on Christmas Eve.

* * *

"My lord, it would seem we have a rather interesting new development."

"_Really now, Rodolphus, do tell…_" Voldemort swirled a goblet of red wine in his hand.

"It would appear, sire, that the man I spoke of earlier, he is…" Rodolphus hesitated, trying to come to grips with the revelation, himself.

"_What of it?_" His Lord hissed impatiently.

"Salazar…Salazar Slytherin…"

"_WHAT?_" Voldemort bellowed, crushing the glass in his hand; red liquid trickled down his arm.

"I know it sounds ludicrous, my lord, but my brother...he is sure of it."

"_How is this possible?_"

"Apparently, he was able to listen in on a conversation between him and Severus this evening; something about Hogwarts and some Chamber." The Death Eater reported dutifully.

"_Tell him to find out as much as he can about this Salazar Slytherin." _Voldemort smiled sickeningly,_ "I must admit this is quite the intriguing development._"

"Aye, sire." Rodolphus bowed, and exited the room, sure to not overstay his welcome.

The Dark Lord peered out the window, staring at the blanket of snow that covered the grounds of Malfoy Manor, "_Happy Christmas..._" He muttered.

* * *

Ok, the reason it's taken me over a year to update is because of school and lack of inspiration. Luckily, for some reason, there's something about this late November, December season that gets me into a writing tizzy.

I had no idea where I was going with this, but through the development of this chapter, I've managed to pave a bit more of this story's pathway. I look forward to writing future chapters now that I have a bit more of a clue as to where the direction of this story is headed and frankly, I like it.

I'd love to hear everyone's input on this chapter, especially the conversation between Snape and Sal, it's the section I had the most fun writing. I'm starting to experiment more with my own take on certain things. Anyway, I hope everyone has a Happy Thanksgiving here in the States.

Review! I really want to know your take on things! Oh yeah, and please excuse whatever grammatical errors you might find. I wanted to get this out to ya'll as soon as I could :)

Until next time,

Meow


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 14: In Which there are Roses & Broken Noses**

Hermione opened her eyes, blinking slowly. It was dark; she closed them again. She struggled to recall where she was for a moment. Sluggishly, she rolled over onto her back. Her arm splayed out across the bed, thumping against something. Groaning, she felt around blindly with her hand, wrapping her fingers around the alien object. She dragged it towards her, cracking an eyelid open. It was a brown box, slender, with a piece of parchment dangling off it by a string. 'Good Morning' was scrawled on it in spidery handwriting. _Salazar..._She was in his room.

She sat up, and examined the package carefully. Placing it back down on the bed, she lifted the lid, squinting to make out its contents. Nestled in scraps of tissue was a single glass rose with a pink-tinted blossom in full bloom. Hermione blinked in surprise, _that smell_...she picked up the flower by its stem and sniffed the bud. She felt silly at first, but was promptly rewarded. It smelled lovely, reminding her vaguely of the summers spent at her grandmother's when she was little. Her gran always had the hugest rose bushes...

Hermione lay back down, holding the delicate flower against her chest. It wasn't long before it occured to her that the house was uncharacteristically quiet- for a Christmas morning, anyway. Something wasn't right. She felt a cold despair creep into her heart. Replacing the gift back inside its box, she slid out of bed, ran down the hall, and took the stairs two at a time to the parlor. She walked into the sitting room, her sudden presence drawing the attention of others. The residents of Number Twelve were huddled around eachother, conversing in whispers. Scariest of all, however, was the sight of Molly Weasley, face drenched in tears. It took mere seconds to comprehend that neither Ron nor Harry were among the occupants of the room.

Her mouth went dry, "What…What's going on?" She rasped.

Molly turned to her, eyes wild, "How could you Hermione; how could you not tell me; my boy, my baby boy!" She sobbed.

Hermione felt her blood run cold. Ginny walked over to her, handing the girl a piece of parchment. She snatched it out of the redhead's grasp and unfolded it with shaky hands.

_Mione, _

_Me and Harry started thinking ever since our last talk. By the time you read this we'll be long gone so don't bother looking for us. Do me a favor and tell mum that I love her and I'm sorry. I know she'll be bloody angry. Harry wants to write a few things, so I'm handing over the quill. Take care, Mione!_

_Hermione, _

_I know you'll be upset when you find this, but please try to understand why we had to leave earlier than planned. The longer we wait, the less time we have left to actually make a difference. I promise me and Ron will take good care of each other. Be expecting to hear from us, we'll find a way to contact you. Tell everyone not to worry._

_Love, _

_Harry and Ron_

"WHY! Why didn't you just say something! We could've stopped them…if only you had just said something…" Molly shrieked. Tonks tried to shush her by enveloping the woman in an embrace.

Hermione felt lightheaded. The room around her began to spin and her legs shook uncontrollably. Just as they were about to give way someone caught her by the waist. She gripped onto her savior's arm for support, "Now, Molly, I understand you're distraught, but it is apparent Miss Granger is just as troubled. Now is not the time to be making accusations. It is Christmas Morning for Merlin's sake, I'm sure Misters Potter and Weasley would not want us to fret about their departing, as made clear in their letter. Let us make the most of this holiday." The familiar aristocratic tone made her all too aware of whose hand was currently wrapped around her midsection. She tried to break away, but it was evident that Lucius Malfoy had no intention of letting her go just yet.

"He's right mum, look." Ginny agreed. She walked over to the Christmas tree, returning with a small package wrapped messily in red paper. 'To Mum' was written messily on a piece of parchment stuck to it with spellotape, "Open it Mum." She encouraged. Molly Weasley pulled at the paper meekly, withdrawing a picture frame. Ron grinned up at her, hands in his pockets. 'I Love You, Mum' was scribbled in Ron's almost-illegible chicken scratch at the bottom of the photo.

Remus followed suit, retrieving a parcel folded in purple and neon green, polka dotted paper. He handed it to Tonks whom blushed appropriately. Eventually, gestures of thanks erupted throughout the room as the rest of the tenants exchanged gifts. Harry and Ron's absence was briefly forgotten. Hermione yanked herself out of Lucius' grasp when he had yet to relinquish his hold on her.

"Where did they find that letter?" She demanded of him. The note had clearly been addressed solely to her and the boys wouldn't have left it just _anywhere_ for her to find.

"When the three of you had yet to come downstairs this morning, Molly went up to take you all. When she found you not in your room, and nothing but a letter on your pillow, she panicked. Fortunately, Master Salazar happened to be on his way down and was able to notify her that you had..._occupied his quarters_ for the night..."

The way he said that last part made her feel dirty and she despised him all the more for it, "Where is he?"

Lucius smirked, "In the dining room with Severus getting his bandages replaced."

* * *

Snape hovered over Salazar's leg, spectacles perched on the edge of his hooked nose. He examined the wound, dabbing it with a skin-sealant potion, "It appears that the sealant potion I've been using has managed to hold, amazingly enough." He leaned back, "But unfortunately, I am merely a Potions Master, not a mediwizard. When you return to Hogwarts, Poppy will be able to give you a proper consultation."

Hermione slipped into the room; Snape glanced at her with a less than enthused expression, "Ah, so Gryffindor's Princess has finally decided to grace us with her prescence." She ignored him.

Lucius came in right after her, "What news, Severus?"

Snape aimed his wand at Salazar and fresh bandages constricted around the man's leg, "None." He muttered, wiping his hands on a towel, "Potter and Weasley have taken their leave, then?"

Hermione didn't realize that the question had been directed at her, "Miss Granger...?" Lucius attempted to stir her.

"Oh," She replied with a start, "Yes, sir."

Snape removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. The last thing the Order needed was for those two to go off. It would only serve to cause even more problems, "What exactly do they intend to accomplish?"

Before she could reply, something dawned upon her, "…d-diary, the ring," She whispered to herself insanely, mentally scrolling down the list of horcruxes that had already been destroyed. Her eyes darted frantically from Lucius who had addressed her, to Snape, and then finally, to Salazar,"Y-You!" She strode over to Salazar, smiling broadly and gripping his shoulders, "Of course! Why didn't I think of it before; we have you!" Salazar was beginning to believe that, perhaps, the girl was indeed "off her rocker".

"Miss Granger, would you mind doing us all a favor by explaining yourself; have you gone daft?" Snape barked.

"We have him!" She chirped.

"Bloody hell, girl, I believe we've already established that, now what of it?" He was growing frustrated with her antics.

"His locket is a horcrux!" Hermione explained, "Professor Dumbledore told Harry before he died that he believed Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw's possessions to be horcruxes as well. Two of the six have already been taken care of. If we find the founder items, that leaves only one left to figure." She turned to Salazar, "Hufflepuff's cup and Ravenclaw's diadem, are you familiar with them?"

"Of course I'm 'familiar' with them; Helga would carry that blasted chalice around with her wherever she went." He huffed in response.

"And what of Raveclaw's diadem?" Lucius inquired.

"Stolen…by her daughter, Helena. Rowena was never the same when that girl turned up dead. She spoke to no one of the events leading up to her child's murder, but when Helena's spirit turned up one night roaming the halls, well, it wasn't exactly a secret anymore. When Helga tried to talk to the apparition, Helena explained the actions which resulted in her untimely death. Rowena had been too ill at the time and could not retrieve her daughter, so she sent a suitor in her stead. The rest is, as they say, history.

Rowena Ravenclaw died of grief. While she had been considerably sick, she was stubborn. A bought of bad health wasn't enough to do her in. We discussed it amongst ourselves whether or not to seek the diadem after Helga learned of its location from Helena's spirit. In the end, we decided against it."

"Do you think she still haunts Hogwarts; Helena? What does she look like?"

"I would assume so. She was a pretty little thing, the students called her the Grey Lady."

Hermione exchanged glances with the former Death Eaters, "Where did she leave it; the diadem?" She pressed.

"In the hollow of a tree," Salazar shuffled through his memory, "In some forest to the southeast. It was muggle territory, the Bulgarian Empire, off the coast of the Mediterranean."

"When did she die, Ravenclaw's daughter?" Lucius asked, seemingly having caught on to something.

"Early eleventh century, if I'm not mistaken, it's been so long that I find the exact year escapes me."

"Albania." Lucius stated firmly.

"How are you so sure?" Hermione stared at the man skeptically.

"When he failed to kill Potter, the Dark Lord retreated to Albania. Of all the places for him to hide, I'd always wondered...He had to have been familiar with the region, which would lead one to assume that he'd been there in the past, possibly for the diadem."

The room remained still as Hermione processed the information. The minutes ticked by and Salazar grew more and more irate, "Will someone kindly do the honor of explaining to me what the bloody hell you three have been going on about for the last fifteen minutes?" They owed him that much for all the information he'd provided.

"The reason we have been so unsuccessful in riding this world of the Dark Lord is due to his manipulation of a dark magic. He has found a way to split his soul and deposits the pieces into objects, thus rendering himself immortal. It is enough to create one, but it would seem he has created six." Snape explained.

"I am not unfamiliar with the concept of such magic."

"Do go on." Lucius transfigured the fruit bowl resting in the middle of the table into a goblet. He tapped the brim with his wand and the glass filled up with brandy.

"Herpo the Foul, the first documented parselmouth, other than myself, of course," He couldn't help but add; Hermione rolled her eyes,"Original breeder of the Basilisk, he was also renowned for his supposed development of a means by which to achieve immortality, though he transferred he managed to transfer his spirit into an animal in addition to objects..."

Glass shattered in the next room and Ginny screamed. "FATHER!" Lucius was up in a heartbeat at the sound of his son's distressed tone. Snape followed after him, brandishing his wand.

Hermione scrambled to help Salazar up and the two of them made their way into the sitting room to investigate. The scene they stumbled upon was a bizarre one. Broken ornaments littered the floor and the coffee table was overturned. Mad-Eye had his wand aimed toward the ground, his trademark eye swiveled wildly in its socket, "Thought you could get passed me, did you, you disgusting piece of filth!" He growled, "Nothing gets past Alastor Moody!"

Hermione left Salazar leaning against the wall and pushed her way between the Twins and towards Draco whose expression was grave. Mad-Eye hovered over a male form, clothed only in a pair of worm black trousers. Scars marred his bare chest and shaggy, dark brown, hair obscured his identity. His arm was raised defensively over his face, displaying the Dark Mark on his left forearm for all to see, "Who is that?"

Draco stood next to her, his shoulders tense, "Granger, that kid you've been carting around for the past few days...well, he wasn't exactly a _kid_."

She felt the blood drain from her face, "What?"

"You remember Rodolphus Lestrange; that is Rabastan, his younger brother."

Hermione stared at him incredulously before turning to look at the man on the floor. Mad-Eye gave the Death Eater a swift kick in the gut before Snape and Lucius moved in to lift Rabastan's mangled body. Together, they dragged him into the dining room, slamming the doors shut behind them. When she and Draco attempted to gain entrance, Remus barred them, "It is not safe."

"Remus, please!" She tried, "If what Draco said was true..."

Lupin shook his head, "_Regardless_of what young Mr. Malfoy told you, the situation must be handled accordingly and without distraction."

"_Move_, wolf." Draco ordered.

"Your father specifically requested that you stay out of the way, Draco. Mind your elders and do as he says." Remus chided and the boy shrunk away from the man's intimidating gaze. Hermione readily abandoned the cause and went to help Salazar.

The sofa had been obliterated in the scuffle and he was left to sit on a mere footstool. He looked at her, his face clearly reading 'you can't be serious'. Miffed at his insistence on acting like a prat, she transfigured the ottoman into a chair and all but shoved him into it. Then, she proceeded to pace in front of him for the next half hour until he could no longer take her constant back-and-forth routine. Tempted to trip her with his good leg, he refrained. He had just pulled out his wand and was about to petrify her when Molly Weasley walked into the room and she halted in her tracks.

"Mione, they're asking for you." She spoke gently.

"Who?" Hermione asked, dumbfounded that the woman was even _speaking _to her.

"Severus and Alastor, you better hurry." She left him without even a parting glance. He was glad to be rid of her. Her incessant fidgeting was driving him mad.

Hermione started for the dining room, but not before she confronted Mrs. Weasley first, "I'm so sorry, Molly. If I'd have known that they were leaving this soon, I would've tried to stop them myself."

Molly smiled, wrapping the girl in a warm embrace, "I know, dear, I know..."

* * *

The tension in the dining room was stifling. Kingsley and Tonks were arranged on either side of Rabastan. He'd been bound to the chair with an _Incarcerous _looking rather _put out_. Moody was stationed behind him, face screwed up in utter distaste. Lucius sat at the table, Draco at his side, and Snape loomed nearby. He gestured for her to sit and she did so. Rabastan tilted his head and shook the locks of overgrown hair out of his eyes so as to look at her. He smiled, displaying a perfect set of ivory teeth.

"Why Severus, eye-candy? You shouldn't have..." He said, licking his lips.

"Miss Granger is here at your request, now talk." Snape snapped.

"He refused to speak unless you were present." Lucius whispered in explanation before she could ask.

Rabastan leered at her the whole time, "What's this? Care to share that with the rest of the class, Mr. Malfoy?" He frowned at their secretive exchange.

"Don't make me resort to using Verituserum," Snape pleaded exhasperatedly, "I've already exhausted my personal store of ingredients as it is." He really had...

"Oh bloody _boo hoo_!" Rabastan retorted mockingly, "And _Veritaserum_? I think I just about shit my pants at the thought!"

Tonks smacked him over the head fiercely, "_Bloody fuck_!" He swore.

"Nymphadora!" Moody reprimanded.

"Sorry...he was getting on my nerves." She crossed her arms, perturbed.

"Tread carefully, you fool, for every step may be your last." Snape warned, malice glittering in his black eyes.

"Is that really all you can manage, man; after all these years? Ha! Torture me, _kill _me even! I'd rather it be you poofs than the Dark Lord any day! In fact, you'd be doing me a _favor._" He grinned.

"We are getting nowhere fast, Severus." Lucius commented dryly. Rabastan always _had_been a piece of work. He had never seemed the type to be in league with the likes of the Dark Lord. He was too much of an independent, though he supposed his family had something to do with his initiation into the Death Eater ranks.

"How much do you know?" Snape sat down wearily. He was going to need a few shots of Firewhiskey before the night was over.

"Enough..." He proclaimed, proudly.

"Define 'enough'."

Rabastan decided to humor him, "Salazar Slytherin, was it? Now there's a juicy morsel of information...but then again, there is of course that _Room_..."

"For the record; you impersonated a child, yes?"

"Yes sir, and allow me to add; I wouldn't have minded staying that way, the kind of treatment I was getting..." He winked at Hermione. Her hands balled into fists beneath the table and she narrowed her eyes angrily at him.

Draco could not restrain himself, "Oi, Granger, didn't you bathe with the brat the other night?"

Rabastan's eyes lit up, "Oh, yes, yes, thank you, Draco, for reminding me!" He shifted in his seat, "About that, you, my dear, have the best set of br-" Hermione launched out of her seat and socked him in the face. His chair fell back at the sheer force.

Tonks was quick to abandon her post in order to contain the feisty female. Hermione's chest heaved as she allowed Tonks to hold her back before she rendered Rabastan speechless. Kingsley heaved him off the floor and back into an upright position. He moaned as blood flowed out of his nostrils. The corner of his lip was split and he spat out a glob of blood and spittle. Draco cringed at the sight, "I feel your pain mate. She's got a nasty right hook."

"You sick son-of-a-harlot," Hermione cursed, Tonks still holding her, albeit half-heartedly.

"Hey now, leave me mum outa' this, there's no need for name-calling." Rabastan spluttered. Moody chuckled at the absurdity of it all.

Hermione was ushered back into her seat and Tonks made sure not to stray too far. The girl was visibly seething, murderous intent evident in her gaze. Kingsley 'Episkey-ed' Rabastan's broken nose before the interrogation was allowed to continue. The young female ignored the dull ache in her knuckles from the impact, no doubt the skin was starting to bruise. It was well worth it though. There was just something about _physically harming_the arse that made her calm down and she silently wondered if Tonks had experienced the same gratification when she'd slapped him earlier.

Snape sighed, _round two_, "How much does the Dark Lord know…what the _hell _are you doing?" Snape stared at the man as he twisted his mouth and bent his head awkwardly.

This went on for a second more before Rabastan saw fit to enlighten them, "I've got an itch on my chin and it's driving me insane!"

Snape nearly went slack-jawed, a few shots wouldn't suffice after this, he'd need to down a whole other bottle, liver be damned, "Will someone please scratch the blasted thing so that we may proceed!" He bellowed, "Not everybody move at once!" He snarled when no one made any sudden movements.

Tonks walked around the corner of the table and helped relieve the man, returning to Hermione side shortly thereafter, "Thanks love, you're a peach." Rabastan drawled.

"Answer the question." Snape attempted for the third time.

"What question?" Snape's shoulders began to shake in rage. "Oh! Right; how much does the Dark Lord know? I was in the middle of reporting back to him when _this one_, " He nodded towards Draco, "- _rudely_interrupted me. Luckily for you bastards, I doubt he much believed me on the subject of Lord Slytherin and this 'Chamber' business. Roddy told me I was to confirm it..."

Snape released something akin to a sigh of relief at the news. "So, now that _that_has been clarified, what'll we do with him now?" Lucius asked.

"Yes indeed, what shall you do with me?" Rabastan smiled broadly.

Snape contemplated silently to himself, "Do you have a wand in your possession?"

Rabastan didn't repy. Moody motioned to Tonks, "Accio Rabastan's wand."

The instrument slipped out of his pocket, no larger than the size of a toothpick. The metamorphamagus retrieved it, taking hold of each end with a thumb and an index finger. Rabastan's eyes widened in horror, "Wait, wait! Let's not be too *snap*…hasty..." He whimpered. Dora placed the broken halves of his wand on the table in front of him where he eyed the pieces forlornly.

"Kingsley, Tonks, monitor him, will you; at least until we can find a proper holding cell for him." Snape beseeched the two Aurors, "If it were not for the potentially vital information you may possess, I would have already shipped you off to Azkaban." He went on to say to Rabastan, "I'm sure your presence has been sorely missed."

Hermione eyed the man until Lucius signaled that she was free to go. She left quickly, taking care not to look back. Definitely, _the_ worst Christmas of all time...

* * *

**Author's Note**:

Be honest, how many of ya'll saw that coming? (The whole **Ra**-_baby impersonator_-**bastan** thing, I mean.)

God, I love this story...

Meow-Mix


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 15: La Vie En Rose**

Throughout the duration of Rabastan's detainment, Grimmauld Place had been anything but silent. The days that followed that Christmas morning served to test the residents' willpower; the desire to kill the man bordered on overwhelming. He sang "La Vie En Rose" late into the evenings, belting out the tune rather impressively in a way that would've made even Edith Piaf envious. When multiple threats- on Snape's part- to end his existence failed, they were forced to resort to a silencing charm.

While that seemed to remedy the situation for the most part, Tonks and Kingsley still had to suffer the man's constant singing. New Year's came and went without a hitch- other than Rabastan vehemently demanding for a bottle of celebratory Firewhiskey. Naturally, it was a privilege he was denied to wish he petulantly responded by singing "Danny Boy" the entirety of the night. It was a welcome change of pace, but eventually, it _too_grew irritating to the point of where the Aurors were starting to prefer his rendition on "La Vie".

Salazar was reading through Snape's lesson plans in the sitting room the eve before their return to Hogwarts. He was just finishing up when the doors to the dining room-turned-makeshift-cell burst open, "THAT'S IT! I'VE HAD IT!" The vibrant haired female stomped into the sitting room, Mad-Eye chasing after her.

"NYMPHADORA!" He shouted.

She rounded on him, "In the name of Merlin's saggy left nut sack, if I hear that bloody song EVER again, I swear I shall throw myself off the astronomy tower!" Tonks shrieked, striding into the parlor, her hair turning a furious shade of red, "I am in desperate need of a break! The only danger that man poses to anyone around here is hearing loss, and seeing as how my ears are on the verge of bleeding out, I refuse to give him the satisfaction of success!"

"She's got a point, sir." Kingsley readily agreed.

Moody knew when the odds were against him, "Very well," He sighed gruffly, "Off with the both of you! But don't forget we'll be escorting Slytherin and Miss Granger in the morn!"

Lucius strutted into the sitting room, clad in black slacks and a pressed button down shirt. His hair was swept up at the nape of his neck with a tie and he looked ready to spit venom at anyone who so much as looked at him the wrong way. He made an exception for Salazar, of course, when the founder threw him a questioning look, "Molly insisted that my robes be washed..." He replied curtly, sitting down on the other side of the sofa.

"Will your son not be returning to school this term?" Salazar asked over Snape's journal.

Lucius nodded in affirmation, "I'm afraid not; it's too risky."

"A pity, to be sure…" The founder mumbled unconvincingly.

"Indeed...Anxious to set foot in a classroom for the first time in over a thousand years?"

Without looking up, Salazar replied, "Hardly, if there is one thing I've learned in all my previous years as an educator, it's that the students never change. Therefore, I'd say I have nothing to fear..."

Lucius chuckled rickly; he would learn eventually, all in due time.

* * *

Hermione managed to sleep soundly, partially in thanks to the now-empty potion vial on her nightstand. A Drought of Peace was the only way she would have been able to make it through the night. Her clock beeped shrilly at seven in the morning and she rolled out of bed. Her two traveling trunks sat at the foot of her bed, one on top of the other. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a maroon colored jumper, making sure to throw her sleeping attire into a trunk. She shut the lid and secured the lock. Next, she searched the room for Crookshanks. She found him lurking underneath the bed and he peered at her sleepily with huge yellow eyes.

"We're going back to Hogwarts today, so stay where I can find you." Crookshanks yawned in response. Pushing herself up off the floor, she dusted her pants. Giving the room one last sweep through so as to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything, she spun on her heel and headed for the door.

Hermione padded down the hallway, knocking softly on Salazar's door in warning before she walked in. She found him sitting at the edge of his bed, staring vacantly at the wall. He was clad in solid black robes that rose high at the collar- borrowed from Snape, no doubt. She couldn't help but admit he looked rather fetching in them...but then again, he seemed to look _rather fetching_in anything. It was a trait she found to be very annoying. He sported a neat goatee now, as well...He'd been nursing his facial hair recently, neglecting to shave. At his feet rested a humble suitcase- courtesy of Mrs. Weasley. She wondered if it hurt his pride, having to have everything loaned to him. He hadn't a single possession in the world...

He appeared in deep thought and failed to notice her coming in. The floorboards creaked beneath her feet, the sound breaking him out of his reverie. He glanced up at her with steely grey eyes. She nodded at him in greeting. They'd been so preoccupied with their own doings the last few days and had spent little time in eachother's company. She'd been finishing up last-minute over-the-holiday assignments (the 'last-minute' due in part to having had a _very_eventful break) while he religiously spent his time reading through Snape's notes. For some odd reason, she felt rather..._tense..._just now.

"All packed, I suppose?"

"Yes." He said simply.

"Good…" She mumbled, turning around slowly and scrambling out of the room.

Hermione ran into Ginny on her way downstairs, biscuit in one hand, cup of coffee in the other, "Mum sent me up to wake you." She pushed past the curly-haired female, "She wanted you to eat something. We leave for the train station in an hour." The redhead shouted over her shoulder, voice thick with exhaustion. Ginny had never been a morning person.

"Alright,"

Ginny paused in her trek to look down at her, "Hermione, are you okay?"

"Oh, yes...Fine, couldn't be better." She lied, tossing her friend a small, reassuring smile before continuing on down the stairs.

Quite the contrary, however, she was far from _fine._Truth be told, she was an anxiety attack waiting to happen. Harry and Ron were Merling-knows-where. Lestrange had been singing his lungs out at every waking moment. It really was all too much to bare at the moment. The sooner she got back to Hogwarts, the better. She walked into the kitchen and froze. Rabastan stared at her, eyes wide and mouth shoved full of food. When he tried to speak, bits of toast spluttered out and he had to swallow.

"Now wait just one minute, ma chéri-" He started.

She didn't waste any time; her wand was whipped out in the blink of an eye, "Petrificus Totalus!" She shouted.

He ducked and the spell soared over his head, "Oi, hear me out here!"

"Expelliarmus!" Hermione's wand was launched out of her grasp, "Miss Granger, refrain from causing further injury to the wretch, will you?" Snape grimaced.

"But, Professor," She protested.

"He is now under the protection of the Order." Severus explained.

Rabastan scurried over to stand next to the Potions Master, "Thank you, Severus, quick as a viper, that one."

"Do shut up, Lestrange…" He drawled, "The Order has decided to grant him clemency for his cooperation in providing information on the Dark Lord's whereabouts."

_Cooperation?_ "How do you know he's not just lying to save his own skin!" She spat.

Rabastan was ready to retort but Severus elbowed him in the gut, efficiently silencing him,"He swore an oath...that is all you need to know." Snape replied tersely, "You leave within the half hour. Be prepared."

Hermione retrieved her wand, "Yes sir." She gritted out, waiting for the two to leave before she grabbed a plate and began piling on food.

* * *

At the last minute, it was determined that rather than traveling by train, they'd be using the Floo network. Ginny was less than thrilled at the thought of getting soot on her clothes; Hermione honestly preferred it this way. It was a more conventional means of travel; it got them where they were going quicker. Any longer spent confined within Grimmauld's dreary halls and she'd be forced to kill someone to alleviate the stress.

"Ginny, dear, it'll be the Gryffindor common room for you so that you can get settled in. Hermione, Minerva wishes to speak to you and Sal. She asked that you report to her office." Molly bustled around them.

Salazar was beginning to grow accustomed to being out of the loop when it came to certain discussions. He'd no idea in the slightest what in the world a _train_ was, then they started talking _Floo _and he gave up completely. Mrs. Weasley happened to catch the blank expression on his face in time, "It is really very simple, Sal. Ginny, if you wouldn't mind demonstrating, it's time for you all to be off anyway."

Ginny smiled unenthusiastically. She gave her mother a parting hug and stepped into the fireplace, grasping a handful of black powder from a pot suspended off the side of the brick mantle,"Gryffindor common room," She shouted, throwing the powder at her feet before being engulfed in green flames.

Salazar's jaw clenched.

"See? Nothing too difficult." Molly turned to him, beaming; the crow's feet crinkled at the corners of her eyes, "Now, who's to be next?" Hermione stepped forth into the fireplace and disappeared much in the same fashion Ginny had.

Salazar next, he hobbled forward. Molly grasped him by the arm and he stopped and turned to look at her. She eveloped him in an embrace. Dumbfounded, he artlessly returned the gesture. She pulled back and gripped his shoulders, giving them a light squeeze, "Good luck, deary, watch over Hermione, will you? She has the tendency to overwork herself sometimes..."

He smiled down at her warmly, "Thank you for your hospitality." He said graciously.

"Take care," She waved.

"Headmistress' office!" Raging green fire encircled him and he was gone.

* * *

When the flames receded he found himself staring out into a cluttered room. An assortment of books and portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses lined the walls. Shelves towered overhead with various sorts of contraptions, "Welcome, _Professor _Salazar, do have a seat."

The girl had already taken up residence in a cream-colored, high backed chair. The Scottish hag sat behind the grand mahagony desk, its wide expanse making her seem even smaller than she already was. He grabbed a golden poker and used it as a makeshift cane to help him limp over. He eased into a chair opposite Hermione and waited. The Headmistress continued scribbling something on a piece of parchment. His patience was wearing thin.

McGonagall set her quill aside, "Once again, welcome, both of you." She greeted, "First things first, we have already submitted your paperwork to the Ministry for filing, Sal. Henceforth, you will go by the name of Stephen Salazar." Salazar glanced at Hermione, vaguely wondering if she had anything to do with that particular choice of an alias. "-You will be assuming the position as resident Potions Professor. I assume Severus has already gone ahead and provided you with the necessary materials. I've made sure and sent a timetable to your quarters. Your rooms are located in the dungeons behind Madame Burke, password..." She paused questioningly.

"Yes...?" He permitted the woman to go on. He could care less if the little chit knew.

"Vita Denuo."

_Life Anew..._Salazar grinned lopsidedly, "How appropriate."

"If you have any more questions, feel free to ask Miss Granger." McGongall cleared her throat, "Hermione, dear, you _are_ familiar with Madame Burke's portrait, yes?"

"Yes, Professor." Hermione nodded.

"Excellent, if you would be so kind as to show Professor Salazar to his quarters..." Hermione rose first, and went over to Salazar, "Oh, and Miss Granger, I almost forgot. On your way down, take care to stop off at the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey would like to take a look at Salazar's wounds."

"Right..." She muttered. The task of looking after the man was already turning out to be quite bothersome.

* * *

Hermione helped Salazar down the seventh floor corridor. She wasn't looking forward to having to climb down three flights of stairs to the fourth floor. The Grand Staircase wasn't exactly the easiest to navigate when one had to drag down a whole other human being with them. She couldn't remember him being so heavy the last time she aided him. It must have been the robes, she concluded, nearing the steps. When she made an attempt to descend, Salazar's weight held her in place.

She turned to look at him, "What is it?"

"I cannot recall having done anything to anger you, as of late. So, why do you insist upon acting like a 'cold fish'?" Salazar stared down at her, "Not that I very much care for your pettiness." He added in for good measure.

She shoved him off, "_What! _Forgive me if I've been slightly _preoccupied _with other pressing matters to be able to afford you the time of day!" He had the audacity to act all _hurt feelings_ because she'd failed to say more than a few words to him, "Furthermore, might I add; you are so bloody bipolar! If you're _not _being a pretentious prat, you're leaving me presents!" It was _one_present, but still..."Remind me to ask Madame Pomfrey to examine that obviously addled brain of yours, because you are seriously starting to show symptoms associated with paranoid schizophrenia!"

He smirked, "Well...that's got to be the most you've ever said to me in one sitting." Salazar laughed, "Glad to have you back, Kitten."

Hermione huffed, "Do you _enjoy _getting a rise out of me?" She asked, although she was sure she already knew the answer.

He chuckled, "But of course! It's second only to..." _Kissing you, _he thought, berating himself immediately after, "harassing that half-blood Kneazle of yours."

She rolled her eyes. He really was inconceivable, this man, "I never thanked you, by the way...for the rose. So...thank you."

"You're welcome...do try not to break it. I actually put more than an ounce of my valuable effort into magicking the thing into existence."

Hermione ignored him, deciding instead to focus on making it down the Grand Staircase intact.

* * *

Eventually, they succeeded in making it down to the fourth floor alive, despite the overpowering desire to hurl Salazar down the remaining twenty-some steps. Hermione shuffled them swiftly down the corridor and into the Hospital Wing where she promptly deposited him onto the nearest bed. Grateful to be rid of the excess weight, she massaged her shoulder while going off in search of Madame Pomfrey. A moment later, the woman emerged from her office, wheeling a trolley full of potion vials and bandages, Hermione at her side.

"Happy New Year," the mediwitch greeted, "- our latest addition to the faculty, welcome." She told him to sit back.

Hermione moved out of the way, watching the woman as she worked. When Madame Pomfrey began peeling back the bandages with nimble fingers, Hermione was surprised that Salazar managed to keep his mouth shut. In the past, he'd always needled her whenever she'd done something manually that could've been done just as easily-and with less labor- than if she had just used magic. Pomfrey pulled a pair of magnification spectacles out of her apron pocket to better examine the injury.

"I must say it has healed nicely since last I was able to look at it," She went over to the trolley and began sorting through her stock of potions. Plucking a vial filled with clear-colored liquid out of the selections, she popped the cork and poured it into a small glass. Handing it to Salazar, she ordered him to drink. He did so, forcing down the bitter-tasting potion with a nauseated expression.

Madame Pomfrey giggled, "That should help speed up the repair process of the remaining damaged tissue," Then she grabbed a jar full of a blue jelly-like substance and scooped a glob of it into her palm, "This is to be applied daily. It will promote the reconstruction of your tendon. However, due to the severity of the injury, I'm afraid you won't be walking without a slight limp for the rest of your life. Once you've healed completely, there will still be cases of occasional soreness, but it's nothing a little painkilling potion can't handle." She smeared the gel onto his leg and he winced.

"I think it best you consider investing in a cane in the future to alleviate some of the stress you'd be putting on it." The mediwitch wiped her hands on a cloth and made quick work of bandaging the wound back up.

"You should be able to walk unattended from here on out, but I recommend doing so in limited quantities." She gave his thigh a pat, "You're good to go, lad."

Salazar sat up and swing his legs over the side of the bed, "Thank you, Madame."

Hermione went to help him out of habit and he shrugged her off, "Did you not hear the woman; I no longer require your assistance." He spoke more harshly than intended.

She frowned. She hadn't expected him to take the news in stride, but that didn't mean he'd have to take out his frustrations on her. She watched him stand shakily and followed shortly behind him when he began to walk slowly towards the exit, "Pompous arse..."

* * *

The trek down to the ground floor was an arduous one and Salazar struggled, batting her away when she offered to help him again. Hermione let him alone; he was far too stubborn for his own good. Thankfully, they made it to the dungeons. She had to squint in order to see in the dim light the torches offered. As a prefect, she'd been forced on patrols down these dark corridors and she always made sure to have someone else assigned along with her. To go alone would've been like dangling a rat above a viper's nest. She would've been easy prey.

"This way," Hermione directed, continuing on past him. They walked a ways further. The air had grown increasingly damp and the temperature had dropped substantially. She shivered, trying to fathom how anyone could possibly live comfortably in a place like this. Then again, snakes _were_ cold-blooded, she thought cynically.

The portrait of Elizabeth Burke hung at the end of the corridor. As they grew nearer, she mentally steeled herself. In her lifetime, Burke had been a devout pureblood. To this day, it was rumored her portrait frequently encouraged Slytherin students' torture of Hogwarts' non-pureblooded society, "Under what unfortunate circumstances have I been made to endure the sight of you, filthy mudblood?" The woman scowled.

Salazar appeared behind Hermione then, eyeing the female in the portrait appraisingly.

Burke's painted eyes widened in recognition, "L-Lord Slytherin, h-how…?" She stuttered uncouthly.

"That is a matter of little importance, Madame," He interrupted her broken speech, "If you wouldn't mind allowing me into my quarters?"

Burke visibly straightened, "Of _course_, my Lord, password…?"

"Vita Denuo." The portrait swung open and Salazar stepped through the threshold, glancing over his shoulder when he didn't hear Hermione's footsteps behind him, "I do not have all day."

"I have my own settling in to do, thank you very much." She quipped.

"Do not make me go over there...unless you want to be thrown over my shoulder again."

Hermione sighed, and stepped in after him begrudgingly, despite knowing full well in his condition he could lift no more than a few a first year. The portrait closed with a snap behind her, thwacking the backside of her skull sharply.

Salazar walked through a small alcove before emerging into the vast expanse that was his own personal common room. The floor was covered in a tattered Persian rug upon which tacky, black, leather furniture rested around a dark wooden, low-set coffee table. A dull fire burnt in the mouth of the hearth- carved to look like the head of a snake. The iconic Slytherin banner hung over the mantle. There was a wall lined with a collection of books and to the far right side of the room, there was a door that opened up into his private office. It was a dismal place, with no windows and a musky scent. Salazar was not exactly enthralled. The last time he'd actually been a resident, he'd stayed in one of the towers on the eastern side of the castle.

When the houses were in the midst of being established, Helga was apt to choose the rooms closest to the kitchens and Rowena settled on the western tower. That left the dungeons and what was _now _Gryffindor Tower to be dueled over...quite literally. He'd engaged Godric in a battle to determine who took the Tower. Suffice to say, Gryffindor was renowned for his superb dueling skills. It was a match short-lived, but a close one nonetheless.

Hermione stared at the leather furnishings disapprovingly. They looked positively uncomfortable. The Persian rug was dull and the banner over the mantle sported multiple holes, most likely the work of moths. She whispered a spell to stoke the fire which roared to life appreciatively. No wonder Snape was always so disagreeable. She could hardly blame the man, being forced to live in _this_ sorry place. She gravitated toward the small library to browse through the titles.

Salazar set his suitcase on the ground. He brought out his wand and aimed it at the banner. With a rustle, it settled back against the stone wall, restored to its former glory. From there, he left Hermione to go off and explore and ended up slipping through another door that opened up into his sleeping quarters. A grand bed was situated against the wall in the middle of the room with dark green overhanging curtains and a canopy. There was a desk to the side and a chest of drawers. He paused in his perusal when the door to his bedroom creaked.

Hermione admired the vast Gothic windows that looked out across the depths of the lake. The sun overhead reflected off the water, casting an eerie hue along the floor and ceiling of the room. She could remember Hogwarts: A History mentioning _something_about the Slytherin dorms extending partially into the lake. Witnessing it for herself, it really was a spectacular example of magical architecture. The glass _had_to be reinforced with wards in order not to crack under the pressure. By the looks of it, they (the wards) probably discouraged the growth of algae, too. There wasn't a speck of the green substance on the glass panes. She could just imagine waking up in the morning to an eye the size of a gong peering through that window; it made her shudder. Though, she doubted the Giant Squid preferred to spend its time peeping. It was reassuring to see long stretches of curtain tied back on either side. At least he could pull them shut if he wanted to...then again, if he enjoyed waking up to Merlin-knows-what kinds of marine life that inhabited the lake, that was his prerogative.

"Gaping like a guppy is quite unbecoming." He commented after a while.

She glowered, "Forgive my intrusion; I just wanted to let you know that I'll be taking my leave of you now."

"Very well, what time is dinner?"

"Seven o' clock," She replied, "I suppose I'll see you then, _Professor_."

"I suppose you **shall**, _Miss Granger_." He waited until he heard her head for the door, "Oh, and one more thing," Salazar grinned impishly to himself, "That will be _five points _from Gryffindor for all your cheeky behavior."

She inhaled sharply, her blood boiling. He hand twitched threateningly as she _longed_ to retrieve her wand in retaliation. It had been quite some time since she'd last dispatched her vengeful little squadron of yellow canaries. However, in order to avoid being docked more house points, she opted for a hasty retreat instead.

He could just _feel _the waves of anger washing off of her small form. He relished in it, knowing that she could do nothing but sit there and take it. He loved being on top of the food chain again. It was a very promising start to his new career.

* * *

Hermione stomped into the Gryffindor Common Room. It was barely noon on her first day back and she was already thoroughly exhausted. Ginny was lounging on one of the sofas reading a copy of Witch Weekly when she walked in. She climbed the steps up to the Girls' Dormitory without even so much as a 'hello'. When she pushed the door open to her room, all of her belongings were amiss. A brown screech owl was perched on the foot-board of her bed, a letter clamped in its beak. 'Hermione Granger' was scrawled across the front; she could only pray that it did not contain _more_ bad news. Making her go as far as to _move in _with that dolt of a man was where she drew the line. Fortunately, the letter contained contents of a different nature entirely.

Plucking it from the owl's beak, she tore it open. A Head badge slid out of the folds.

_Miss Granger, _

_It is my pleasure to inform you that you have been promoted to the position of Head Girl. Miss Hannah Abbot has unfortunately decided not to return to Hogwarts this term. It was determined by the staff that you take over in her stead. _

_Your belongings have been forwarded to the Head Girl's Room behind Damara Dodderidge's portrait in the Gryffindor Common Room. Password: __Leo Pectus pectoris._

_Best Wishes, _

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress_

Hermione smiled broadly. It was about time! She always considered herself _far_more deserving of the position than Hannah. She'd been near devastated when the coveted spot had been bestowed upon the Hufflepuff girl, rather than her. Though the circumstances in which she managed to finally obtain the position were not exactly the ones she preferred, she couldn't help but still feel overjoyed. She made sure to conjure a treat up for the owl and hesitantly patted its feathered head.

Afterward, she walked back out the door and all but skipped down the stairs. Ginny glanced at her curiously over the top of her magazine, "What are you so happy about?"

Hermione flashed the Head badge at her and went over to Damara.

The woman yawned, "Password…?"

The curly-haired witch uttered the phrase and the portrait swung open revealing a master suite. Ginny peeked over her friend's shoulder enviously. A queen size bed surrounded by maroon and gold overhangings was nestled against the wall in front of a small fireplace. An empty bookcase sat next to a spacious desk near a window overlooking the grounds of the castle. Her trunks were stacked at the foot of her bed and Crookshanks had already made himself at home atop one of the pillows.

Salazar Slytherin be damned. It was turning out to be a good day.

* * *

Salazar stirred from sleep, snapping his eyes open as he tried to remember where he was again. He rolled over onto his side and it all came back to him. He was _home_. He released a contented sigh and sat up in bed. The candelabra on his nightstand flickered to life; he'd charmed it to do so every morning and evening at half-past six. He rose from the bed, the mattress groaning beneath his weight. He grabbed his outer robes from off the back of his desk chair and tugged them on. He fastened the front closed and walked into the lavatory, candles burning to life as he stepped through the doorway.

He rose from the bed with a creek, grabbing his outer robes which were hanging off the back of the chair at his desk. He threw them on and fastened the front closed. The man walked into the lavatory, lamps burning to life as he stepped through the doorway. He fiddled with the silver knobs a bit and water spouted out from the faucet. He splashed some onto his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He stared into the mirror at his reflection, running a hand along the sides of his face, inspecting for flaws. Devoid of so much as a scratch, he smirked. Swerving on his heel, he exited the bathroom.

Dinner was in twenty-five minutes and he did so _love_ to make an entrance.

* * *

Hermione was able to accustom herself to the role of Head Girl quite quickly. She ushered the students into the castle and made sure everyone got settled in. The halls remained relatively inactive until shortly before dinnertime. Rumors regarding Slughorn's departure were already running rampant. Queries as to whom the oaf's replacement would be, however, were just as numerous. Before they'd left that morning, she and Ginny had been briefed; they were to avoid seeming too familiar with the new professor. A simple task...at least, for _Ginny, _it would be.

Being as large a castle as Hogwarts was, one would think that the chances of running into eachother would be slim. Alas, the Fates were cruel indeed. Hermione had just been on her way to the Great Hall when, whom, _of all Slytherins_, decided to ascend from within the dark recesses of he dungeon corridor at the same time. His eyes trained on her form immediately, taking particular notice of the Head's badge pinned onto her black school robes. A few female stragglers engrossed in conversation promptly silenced at the sight of the attractive stranger.

Hermione greeted him first, "Hello, Professor Salazar." Her attempt at formality sounded horribly fake...even to her.

_Professor Salazar..._It had a nice ring to it, "Miss Granger," He walked towards here, hands clasped behind his back, "You failed to mention that you were Head Girl." He conversed quietly, ignoring the stares of intrigue being sent their way. He could tell by the spark in her hazel eyes that she was still miffed. He looked forward to being the sole instigator of that spark for weeks to come.

"A recent promotion, actually." She replied.

"Ah, I do believe congratulations are in order."

She plastered a false smile onto her face, "Why thank you _sir_. You are _too_ kind."

Her attempt at civility was amusing. His eyes flitted toward the gaggle of-_Gryffindor, _he noted-girls. His grin widened, "Five points from Gryffindor for improper gawking." The girls whom had committed said offense went red in the face before scampering into the Great Hall. Hermione's face too had turned a lovely shade of pink, only, out of sheer rage.

"Gryffindors; insolent creatures, the lot of you. Perhaps you would do well to educate the residents of your house in respecting their superiors."

If he kept talking she wouldn't be held responsible for whatever happened next. The man was tip-toeing dangerously around her last nerve. Coincidentally, she caught some activity out of the corner of her eye. Slytherin second years, Marius De Luca and Stuart Hardy were sneaking around suspiciously behind Marc Hughes; a Hufflepuff first year. She watched attentively as the two boys lingered behind the third, smiling mischievously. Then, Stuart raised his arm and tossed a marble-sized ball toward the boy in front of them. It impacted the floor and the Hufflepuff was shrouded in a cloud of orange smoke. It dissipated, leaving angry red blotches wherever skin was visible.

_Itching Powder..._"Hughes, don't scratch. It will only spread and worsen. Off to the Hospital Wing with you." At the sound of her voice, the two culprits froze.

She sent Hughes on his way before turning to deal with the two Slytherins, "De Luca and Hardy," She made it a point to look Salazar dead in the eye, "_twenty points_from Slytherin." Their jaws unhinged in horror at the massive deduction.

"Slytherins," She sighed, smiling triumphantly, "- need I say more? I leave you to decide their fate, _Professor Salazar_. Good Evening, and _Welcome to Hogwarts_."

He glared after her, half-heartedly, _touche, girl, touche..._he dismissed the two boys after assigning them to clean out the girl's second floor lavatory, sans magic, as their punishment. In all honesty, he could have cared less about the stunt they pulled and would've let them off without so much as a warning...had the prank not been pulled in front of _her_. _Brats..._

Chuckling to himself, he entered the Great Hall to the sound of McGonagall's announcement of, "-and replacing Professor Slughorn in Potions will be Professor Stephen Salazar." _Impeccable timing_. There was a round of applause as he walked through the middle of the hall until finally taking his seat at the staff table.

He surveyed the room, finally catching sight of a familiar head of unruly curls. She was staring right back, eyebrow arched elegantly and a smirk- the likes of which could rival (ironically) a Slytherin- graced her features.

He smiled right back, _you may have won the battle, my dear, but you are sorely mistaken if you think you'll win the war. _

* * *

Ok, allow me to clarify some things, because I discovered what a moron I am for getting too ahead of myself.

Snape killed Dumbledore, and was involved with the Death Eaters thereafter until his betrayal (helping Hermione escape). Being the complete twit that I am, I completely forgot that Slughorn takes over the role of Potions Prof. in the 6th book, and Snape becomes the new D.A.D.A. Prof.

I know my forgetting is COMPLETELY unprofessional and I am truly ashamed, however, I went back and added in Chp. 13 (the chapter were Snape discusses the possibility of Salazar overtaking his position at Hogwarts as a Prof.) that Slughorn decided to be his usual scaredy-cat self and refused to return to teach second semester, leaving a Potions position open as well as a D.A.D.A position, which has remained unoccupied throughout the school year in this story due to Snape's absence.

Seeing as how the D.A.D.A. position has always been unoccupied at one point or another, it makes sense! As for Potions, Salazar will be taking over in that department, of course.

I apologize profusely for the loose-ends, but hopefully this ties them up somewhat.

Thank You all so much for bearing with me!

Meow-Mix


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 16: Potions, Problems, & _Promises_**

Hermione stared up at the canopy overhead. Her heart thudded against her chest and her head ached. Crookshanks was nestled against her side and she pushed him away gingerly. She felt smothered. That dream…that _nightmare_. It had been so horribly vivid. The way that _voice_had hissed venomously in her ear promises of death and carnage…licking and hot like tendrils of fire. It was frightening, incredibly so. Images flashed before her, corpses strewn across the grounds of Hogwarts; the air smelled like scorched earth. She'd been forced to navigate her way through the hellish dreamscape, stepping nimbly over the bodies of her fallen friends…Remus, Tonks, Ginny, Fred…Harry…Ron. She sobbed into her hands.

_Then, there…just beyond the tree-line of the Forbidden Forest…something prompted her forth. She bolted. Dodging trees and leaping over rocks, she ran. Dread weighed down heavily inside her; there was someone in a clearing up ahead. She slowed her pace and stumbled towards the figure. Something warm and wet seeped in between her toes –she hadn't realized she'd been barefoot. She looked down…blood. Hermione recoiled in horror. That person…she had to know. She dropped to her knees and reached out. She hesitated, completely fear-stricken. She pinched her eyes shut and with a whimper, heaved the body over. It rolled with a sickening squelch. She willed her eyes open. A scream caught in her throat._

_Salazar…_

* * *

Salazar yawned, securing his outer robes tightly around his form. A minuscule wardrobe had been compiled to get him through the first week of classes. After that, he'd have to make his own way. He exited his bed chambers and into his personal common room. A plate of food steamed invitingly on the coffee table, much to his surprise. He walked over. A copy of the Daily Prophet sat next to a basket of biscuits. He grabbed the paper and unfurled it. It was one of the few luxuries he'd been allowed during his time spent at that wretched safe house. He was able to become at least _somewhat_ up-to-date, though Severus made sure to make his thoughts known on the publications. "Pure propaganda and tripe…" He'd said. Salazar read it nonetheless.

He made quick work of polishing off his meal. Nibbling on a biscuit, he glanced around the room. Seeing as how he had a few spare minutes before his first class, he decided to renovate the dreadful space into something more aesthetically pleasing. When he was done, gone was the gaudy furniture and in its place stood a pair of wing-backed chairs and a cushiony sofa. The Persian rug beneath, too, had been completely restored to its former brilliance. Satisfied, he turned away and went to retrieve the student roster that the _hag_ had sent up for him the day before.

_N.E.W.T. Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test, _they'd told him. Teaching toward a test…he clucked his tongue. If that is what they would have him do, so be it. He wasn't exactly in a position to argue. He scanned down the list of names, _Potter, Weasley, Malfoy_…and of course Hermione Granger. He expected as much. Severus _had_ made it a point to let him know the witch excelled in every bloody subject, Potions most of all. He grinned. He was looking forward to that particular class session. In the meantime, however, there was a class of sixth years that needed his tending to.

* * *

Salazar sat poised behind his desk, eyeing the brats as they filed tiredly and still rubbing the sleep from their eyes. A select few managed to return his stare before hastily turning away. He smirked behind his hand, waiting silently until the last student scrambled in. The room was still, save for a nervous shuffle here and there. He leaned back in his chair and pulled out his wand. With a wave, the door to the classroom slammed shut. A little Hufflepuff female shrieked and several others jumped in their seats. Slowly, he rose from his seat and stepped around the corner of the desk.

"Good morning," He cleared his throat, "For those of you whom were present at dinner last evening, we have already been introduced." Salazar stood before the class, "However, for the select few that failed to grace us with their presence, allow me – from this moment on, I shall be instructing you in the art of potion-brewing. You will address me as Professor or Professor Salazar."

He paused, "Any questions?" The students moved not an inch in the slightest, "Very well…Now," He went to pick up the day's lesson plan off his desk.

"Professor…"

"Speak." He ordered, back turned.

"May I use the loo?"

Salazar mentally faltered. How utterly anticlimactic… "Be gone with you," He dismissed the boy, "-and when next the opportunity to pose a question presents itself, take care to make it worth my while." He peered over his shoulder to eye the shame-faced child as he made his way to the door.

"Your name, boy."

"Phillips, sir..." The Gryffindor sixth year replied nervously, "Aden Phillips."

"Phillips, is it?" Salazar muttered. "Do make sure to rinse your hands." The comment elicited a few chuckles from around the room.

* * *

Hermione jotted down notes in mild disinterest. Professor Babbling was…well…_babbling _on about a particular set of runes written out on the chalkboard. Hermione's foot tapped irately against the floor. Why was it that the day seemed to drag on forever? She glanced fervently at her wristwatch every minute. She adored Ancient Runes; it was a fascinating subject, on a good day, anyway. Unfortunately, today was turning out to be rather rotten. She'd lost track of time that morning and had been uncharacteristically seven minutes late to Arithmancy. Transfiguration had flown by in a blur after that and now here she was, anxiously awaiting her next class…Potions.

She could only imagine how that prat-of-a-man was fairing. By now he would've gone through groups of second, fourth, and sixth years. What piqued her curiosity more than anything was the potion he had planned for them to brew. It _was_a N.E.W.T. level class and she expected nothing short of a Felix Felicis; speaking of which, she could use a bit of luck at the moment. Babbling waved her wand and parchment pages appeared atop everyone's desk- a homework assignment, no doubt. Hermione looked down and sure enough there was a paragraph's length comprised of symbols. She recognized some of them. She translated the first two lines before the class was dismissed.

Hermione shouldered her book bag and gathered her things. She fought through the crowds, barking at people to quit dawdling in the middle of the Grand Staircase. She clutched her Advanced Potions textbook close to her chest as she flew down the steps. She nearly ran into Neville on his way up from the greenhouse, seeing as how he was carrying what looked to be a Tentacula sprout. As Head Girl, she supposed she _really _should have said something, but she couldn't afford to stop at the moment. A mere _second_ over the designated time and she just _knew_ Salazar would deduct points. She made a note to contact Neville later; venomous vegetation was strictly prohibited in the dorms.

She hit the ground floor at a steady pace, dodging past students left and right, warranting her a few sneers. When within approximately five feet of the Potions classroom, she slowed down. Her entrance was carefully calculated. She navigated her way in between several chairs before locating her preferred seat in the second to the first row. She slung her bag over the chair and took a seat.

* * *

Salazar glanced up in time to see her barge into the room in a brazen manner typical of her kind. He muddled through his mind, trying to decipher a means justifiable by which to deduct points…apparently being _Gryffindor _wasn't good enough. He smiled; he was being petty. He watched and waited, as had been his routine for the previous three classes. It allowed him an opportunity to properly assess his students. The sixth years had been a rather miserable lot, but that could probably be accredited to the fact that they were his first class of the day. The fourth years made up for what their upperclassmen lacked in rambunctiousness. He assigned them a five page essay on the properties of Selkie skin, much to their chagrin. The second years turned out to be a jittery bunch and were scared quiet; it was his favorite class so far. They got away with a research assignment for a potion they'd be working on by the end of the week.

The seventh year Ravenclaw girl that was the last to enter was courteous enough to shut the door behind her. It was a small group, comprised of no more than twenty students. He took a moment to read through the list of potions that they were expected to brew…_Polyjuice and Amortentia… _Salazar chuckled.

"I take it those of you in this class are in here for a reason and I would like to assume that you all are, for the most part, self sufficient…therefore, I shant waste any more of your time. Each of you will have a month to prepare a Polyjuice Potion. You are to pair off. At the end of the month, you and your partner will exchange bits of your choosing for testing of potency." He opened up his copy of Advanced Potions, "Directions are on page 46, begin."

One by one, students rose from their seats and walked over to the storage closet to begin rooting through the stock of ingredients. He kept a trained eye on each of them until it was Hermione's turn, "Miss Granger,"

She eyed him, "Yes Professor?"

"What do you think you are doing?" He asked when she'd approached his desk.

"Going to retrieve ingredients, sir; is there something wrong?"

Salazar leaned forward on his elbows, "That won't be necessary."

"Oh really, why pray tell?" Her tone teetered dangerously on sarcasm.

"You know just as well as I that you have proved perfectly capable of brewing a Polyjuice." He stated. Severus had seen fit to provide him of that little detail and he decided to put the knowledge to good use.

She seemed surprised, "H-how…?"

"How I know is of little consequence," Salazar interrupted, "You are to brew the next potion on the list."

Hermione went red in the face, "B-but sir, that's Amortentia."

"Glad to see that you've been keeping up with your curriculum, go on then. I _eagerly_ await the results." He smirked. She smiled tightly and walked back to her desk to gather the necessary ingredients.

* * *

Hermione fumed over her cauldron. How the bloody hell did he _know_? No one outside of her, Harry, and Ron knew that they'd brewed the potion in her second year…unless…but that was impossible. She sifted in some powdered moonstone. Could Snape have known? She'd been so careful not to leave any evidence, furthermore, if he _did_ know then why not confront her about it? She bit her lip and stirred counterclockwise four times…or was it three. She glanced down at the instructions and her eyes widened. _Stir counterclockwise, __**thrice**__. Failure to do so will result in..._

"Oh Merlin…" She took a step back. The potion startled to bubble. **_BANG! _**_...that. _

She shielded herself with her arms. The liquid splattered onto her clothing and began to eat through her robes. She proceeded to tear them off.

Salazar swept across the room to her side and magicked the surrounding area spotless, "Perhaps I was mistaken in my assumption of your level of intelligence. Surely the so-called 'brightest witch of her age' should know better than to be so careless." He said callously.

She was about to bite back a response when she felt something burning into her flesh. She looked down. The remnants of her potion had seeped through her clothing. Without thinking she tugged her woolen jumper over her head and unbuttoned her shirt a ways down to dab at her skin with a rag. Burn marks mottled her collarbone. Salazar cleared his throat.

Hermione froze in her ministrations. Her classmates were staring in shock; Blaise Zabini in particular was leering at her over Pansy Parkinson's head. She cast her eyes downwards. Her shirt was unbuttoned just shy of flashing the entire class. _What the bloody hell was wrong with her today_! She turned around and began frantically fastening her shirt closed, ignoring the stinging.

"That's quite enough," Salazar said, "Back to work!" He ordered.

When she turned back around, he was smirking down at her, "That'll be five points from Gryffindor for such an indecent display," She supposed she could live with that; the potion explosion _was_ a far worse offense… "-and I'll expect to see you in detention Friday as retribution for your disturbance of class."

"Detention!" She hissed out.

"Did I stutter?"

His eyes _pleaded_ with her to give him more reason to dock points. "No, sir." She relented.

"Good, do stay after class, will you, Miss Granger?" He leaned over to pick up her robe, "So that we may…_discuss _how you shall spend your Friday evening." He handed it to her.

She grabbed it out of his grasp, "Yes sir…"

* * *

Hermione stewed over her cauldron a second time, taking extra care to not let her mind wander. She spooned in ground dehydrated rose petals and lowered the flame. According to the instructions, she was to let it simmer for six days. Curious, considering the number six in Numerology represented love, beauty, and romance. She levitated the cauldron over to an abandoned table at the back of the room and left it. Returning to her desk, Hermione began to clean up. She hadn't bothered to don her jumper and robes again, so they sat abandoned on the chair.

She was in the middle of wiping down her worktable when Salazar concluded class. The door closed with a click and she was alone. Salazar hovered over her classmates' cauldrons, making notes in a moleskin journal before approaching her, "Are you all right?"

Hermione sighed, "Yes, I am fine."

Salazar went over to a cupboard and dug through it, pulling out a jar. He read the label and shut the cupboard, walking back over to her. He unscrewed the lid and placed it down on the table next to her. Hermione recognized the orange paste immediately; burn-healing paste. He dipped his fingers into the jar and moved toward her.

"What are you doing?" She shied away from him.

"Hold still," He grumbled, peeling back the collar of her shirt.

She jerked away, "That is _entirely_ inappropriate!"

"I _can_ deduct points for insubordination..." He threatened. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

He applied the paste along the side of her neck, "How did you know that I'd brewed the Polyjuice before?"

"Severus mentioned that you'd taken the liberty of sneaking into his storage closet your second year, acquiring Polyjuice ingredients for reasons unknown." He wiped his hands on her rag, smearing it with orange. He recapped the jar and grabbed her wrist, placing it in the palm of her hand.

She stared up into his eyes searchingly. He stared right back, "What?"

"You are completely unpredictable sometimes." Hermione found herself saying.

He grinned impishly, "That's just a part of my charm." She grimaced in response. Hermione brushed past him and picked up her belongings. She had an hour to eat lunch before her next class. She wasn't about to spend it conversing with _him_.

"Friday, at seven o'clock, don't forget, _Miss Granger_." He called after her.

* * *

Salazar's afternoon classes proved to be more of a challenge. The fifth years were a bunch of hormonal brats. He had to break up one couple at least twice when they wouldn't cease to keep their hands off each other. The third years were more manageable, _hyper_, but manageable. He finished off the day with first years whom by then were too tired to give him much trouble. It was too early, in his opinion, to retire to his quarters for the evening and he hadn't had the chance to take a stroll around the castle.

He walked down the virtually desolate dungeon corridor and into the light of the Entrance Hall. He was able to make it up the first flight of stairs relatively easily onto the second floor. He recognized the doorway through which he and the girl had come upon escaping from the Chamber. Looking around, he determined the hallway vacant and slipped into the girl's lavatory. It was empty and he spelled the entrance shut so that those tempted to enter be barred.

Stepping over to the sinks, he hissed out in Parseltongue. The structure groaned, giving way to the porthole. He stared down into the darkness. The stairway he'd erected was still in place. He'd be putting strain on his leg, but it was nothing that couldn't be dealt with later.

"Are _you _really Salazar Slytherin?" The ghost of a young woman materialized before him.

He jolted back in surprise, "Why do you ask?"

The spirit whirled around him, "I overheard one of the portraits talking…so are you?"

He'd forgotten how quickly others business became public knowledge in this place, "That depends; who is asking?" She had on Ravenclaw House robes…_a student_?

She batted her eyelashes at him, swaying in midair, "Myrtle…"

"Well, Miss Myrtle, my name at present is Stephen Salazar, so if you wouldn't mind passing that on to your portrait friends…"

She smiled, "You _are_ him, aren't you." Myrtle floated closer, "But how…" She pursed her lips and squinted at him.

"I've matters to attend to, my dear. So if you'll excuse me…" He started down the steps.

Myrtle huffed, "You really _must _be him...so rude!" She wailed piercingly and disappeared into one of the stalls.

There was a dull ache in his leg. He would need to come up with a more efficient means of traveling down into the Chamber if he intended to visit more often. His thoughts strayed. The Granger girl appeared to have been rather distracted. Based off what Severus had told him, the girl had never ruined a potion…not even _once_ in all her years at Hogwarts. Though it had proved quite amusing, it was somewhat odd. His tending to her wounds had been even more peculiar. He had no clue as to what possessed him to do so…and it was beginning to irritate him.

His foot finally descended upon solid ground. Salazar made his way through the tunnel and around the skeletal remains of his Basilisk. He stopped in front of the doorway that opened up into the Room of Resurrection and placed a palm against the door. He sighed and shoved it open. There was that distinct smell again…he'd gotten used to it over time. He walked down the remaining steps. He could feel the magic pulse at his presence.

He navigated through the darkness toward the middle of the room. The pewter dish sat undisturbed, _"Salazarrrrrr…"_

Salazar's eyes darted around the room at the sound…a whisper, almost. His heart hammered…with the absence of blood, it would've been impossible for _Her_ to manifest. His ears were ringing. No, it was inconceivable. The pressure in the room intensified and he struggled to breathe...the magic threatened to suffocate him. There was a sound like a whirlwind and an entity formed before him from out of the dish.

_Salazar meus pectus pectoris , is est sic bonus video vidi visum vos iterum. _"Salazar my heart, it is so good to see you once more."

The magic must have evolved throughout the last two thousand years, it was the only explanation he could think of that _She_ was able to summon herself, "Goddess…it has been a while."

The spectral feminine face distorted as she donned a twisted smile, _"Indeed it has…last we spoke you promised to spend eternity with me in exchange for control over my magic…"_

"I believe those conditions were applicable only in death, were they not?" Salazar was quick to remind.

She giggled huskily, _"Oh yes…convenient…seeing as how you never truly __**died.**__" _She snarled making the magic sizzle dangerously.

"Isn't it…?" He responded and she shrieked at him in anger.

"_You pathetic mortal, how dare you attempt to elude __**me!**__" _She howled_, "I __**demand**__ the payment you owe!"_

"And you will have it!" He cut her off and that seemed to satisfy her for the moment, "However, you shant have _me_."

"_You, Salazar, my sweet, are in __**no**__ position to be making dictations!" _She drew nearer to him_, "I __**will**__ have what was promised me…"_

"I offer an exchange…someone of equivalence to myself, someone perhaps…even more powerful." He prayed that she'd take the bait. It would keep her at bay for now until he really _could_ find someone. He had been a fool to have accepted her terms all those years ago.

She seemed to think on it before coming to a conclusion, _"Very well…I accept...however, this time…"_ She placed a slender finger to his chest, _"I will make sure that you __**keep **__your promise."_ She drew a symbol over his heart. It burned red before searing through his robes and onto his flesh. He crumbled to the floor with a yell.

"_Should you not supply me with a suitable replacement by Summer Solstice, you will hereby be stripped of __**all**__ your magical powers for the remainder of your miserable second existence." _She proclaimed before lowering herself to the floor, "_And this time…when you do die, I shall come for you and you __**will**__ be mine." _She whispered into his ear, pressing her cold cheek to his.

"_Until then, my beloved…" _She drifted away,_ "Forgive me when I say that I do __**so**__ look forward to your failure…Farewell."_ The woman faded into nothingness and the room returned to its previous inactive state.

Salazar lifted himself shakily up off the ground, "Farewell…_Circe_."

* * *

Salazar returned to his rooms and collapsed into a chair, panting. His chest heaved as he fought to calm himself. He thought he'd escaped that woman's clutches…he was so sure of it, in fact, that he had not hesitated to go back down there to that accursed room. If only he had known… He shed his robes until all that he had on were his trousers. The cold air was welcome for once. He felt feverish and the dull ache in his leg was now a painful throb.

He was able to make it into the bathroom. The lights fired up and he eyed his chest through the looking glass. His skin was raised, charred black, in the form of two interlocked circles with a line striking through. He glared at his reflection and punched the mirror. It splintered and shattered, the shards cut his knuckles. He sank to the floor, cradling his right hand. He would never be able to rest in peace, in death or otherwise. He should have never tampered with that magic. It was beyond him.

He'd lost so much over it already…his relationship with his only son had been strained to begin with. Consumed by his own personal ambitions, it eventually became nonexistent. He'd spent the better half of his life seeking to contain something that was never meant to be his, going as far as to make a 'deal with the devil' and was just short of 'selling his soul'. It was greed…pure unadulterated greed and now…he was suffering for it. No matter how hard he tried, he could not escape the past. Always ready to rear its ugly head, it continually mocked him.

Salazar got up and wandlessly repaired the mirror. He limped over to his bed and began the task of applying the blue salve the mediwitch had provided him with. It numbed the pain and he fell back into bed. His hand was still bloody and he made sure to heal it and clean off the blood. He didn't even know what time of day it was, nor did he care. All he desired was sleep. When he closed his eyes, he saw her face. She was smiling back at him, a mischievous glint in her hazel eyes. He would have fought the image away, but it relaxed him strangely enough. She was all he had; she was his only tie to the world in which he currently resided…_Hermione._

What would Cecilia say if she could see him now? _Salazar you are a fool_. That's what she would say, "Forgive me, Cecilia…" He muttered aloud, "Forgive me, Sephirou…my son…."

* * *

Hermione lay in bed going over the ingredients to the Amortentia potion in her head. She spent the entirety of the evening memorizing the steps, skipping back and forth between her Advanced Potions book and her Ancient Runes homework. Professor Babbling had apparently developed a sick sense of humor over the holidays. If she'd managed to translate the assignment correctly –which she was almost positive she had- it announced for the class to be expecting an exam Thursday and for them to read through the next three chapters in their textbooks.

She skimmed through all of them after dinner. Ginny had banded her from doing anything remotely school-related during mealtimes; otherwise she would've finished sooner. Instead, she took notice that a particular Potions professor had been absent from the staff table, but she paid it no mind. Salazar didn't seem like the sociable type anyway. She couldn't help but wonder what he was doing though. Hermione growled. Who cares what the prat was up to? Certainly not _she…_ He was probably ogling his own reflection in a mirror or something equally as narcissistic.

She glanced at the battery-powered clock on her nightstand. It wasn't even eleven yet and she'd already completed all her assignments. She felt restless. Intuition told her something was wrong, but she couldn't pinpoint what that _something_ was. It unnerved her. She shook the feeling off. She was being silly. Everything, as far as she could tell, was fine. _Oh…damn_, she had forgotten to get after Neville for harboring that Venomous Tentacula sprout. That was it, it had to be. Nope, the ominous feeling was still there in the pit of her stomach. She mulled it over.

There was a tap at the window. Hermione flinched…_tap, tap, tap._ She peered over. An owl was perched outside. It rapped against the glass again and she pushed herself out of bed, "What now…"

Hermione fumbled with the hinges and cracked the window open to allow the bird in. She watched as it fluttered into the room and perched atop her desk. There was a pouch fastened to its leg. She shut the window and walked over to the creature. It held out its leg, ready to be rid of the package. She pulled at the strings attaching it to its foot. They came loose almost instantly. The bird retracted its limb and ruffled its feathers in thanks before stepping off to the side to rest. She returned to the warmth of her bed and opened the pouch. There was a slip of folded parchment. She extracted it and read.

_Hermione, _

_R.A.B. - Regulus Arcturus Black. It was right in front of us the whole time. Meet us Wednesday at midnight. Moony's old haunt. Bring the Snake with you. We'll explain everything. Destroy it, Mione. _

_H._

_P.S. Keep the owl._

Her brow furrowed in consternation, _Harry_. She emptied out the contents of the package. It was all tarnished silver. She picked it up, smoothing her hand over the locket's surface; an 'S' was engraved into the metal. She traced it with the tip of her finger, it was so…_beautiful_. She stared at it until Crookshanks slivered over and rubbed against her back. The locket slipped out of her hands. _Strange_…she shook her head, feeling slightly disoriented. The owl hooted at her from its place at her desk. _P.S. Keep the owl…_but she already had a bloody pet. What were they thinking sending her another one and a bird no less? Crookshanks was already eyeing it hungrily. She appraised the creature thoughtfully, glancing back down at the pouch on her bed.

Hermione sighed resolutely, at least this was proof that they were safe, scratching her half-kneazle behind the ear, "Fancy a trip to the dungeons, Crooks?"

* * *

Author's Note:

Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you our latest character, the Goddess Circe!

Salazar hasn't been very truthful, now has he? Now we know why he resurrected himself, and what happens when you tamper with ancient magic…more will be explained on this subject later. Google search "Circe Invidiosa" by J.W. Waterhouse under Images. Anyone recognize the dish in her hands in the first painting?

Sorry for the long wait, _again_. I went through the story and edited for the second and final time. I'm pretty content with it now. I wanted to develop the relationship between Sal and Mione more realistically. So, I changed a few things, but it wasn't so dramatic as to require another read-through, however feel free! It's still quite entertaining.

It's amazing the amount of research I go through in order to write this story. Thank you, Harry Potter Lexicon and various other google sources.

In the next chapter: How in the world did Ron and Harry manage to find Salazar's locket! And more information on Circe, perhaps?

Lastly, The Wizarding World of Harry Potter. It was all over the news. Opening DAY. It was AMAZING. If any of you all were part of the 5am group of crazies…well, you missed me :D Who knows…I could've been standing right next to you! Mwahahaha…

Next chapter soon (hopefully)!


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 17: Letting Go**

"_Salazar," He smiled in his sleep. A soft hand caressed the side of his face, "Darling, wake up."_

_Salazar batted her hand away and turned to lie on his back. He felt the mattress sink in under her weight as she crawled over. Resistance was futile. She would continue to pester him until he was fully conscious. A pair of lips descended upon his. She placed feather-light kisses over each eyelid. He couldn't understand how she could even be up so early after their nightly activities, but somehow, she always managed. Her lips were on his chest, trailing increasingly lower. _

_His hands shot out to stop her before she sank beyond his navel. She giggled knowingly. He gripped her shoulders and heaved her back up so that she was positioned on top of him. When he opened his eyes hers were staring back at him with utter adoration. He looked away, unable to bare the raw emotion in her gaze. Rather, he did not permit himself to see it. This was not love that the two of them shared, it couldn't be, nor would it ever. It was merely an arrangement; it was a mutual agreement. Did she see what he saw; he wondered. Did she even realize…? Her mouth turned up in a sad smile, perhaps she did…_

_He had no desire to know. He never bothered to point it out. It was just something that was there, something that had unintentionally transpired. Only natural, he supposed, after all the lonely nights and lazy afternoons they'd shared each other's beds. Salazar Slytherin could not afford to love; he had no time to invest in a relationship of any sort of late, least of all, romantic._

"_Good Morning, Cecilia." He greeted as she moved off of him._

"_Morning, Salazar," He admired her naked form before she disappeared behind a screen, reappearing clothed in a silk robe, "Tis' your Birth Day, is it not?"_

"_I cannot say, I hardly keep track of the days anymore." He sat up._

_Cecilia sat in front of a looking glass and proceeded to brush her hair. He watched her, counting the strokes. There was a semblance of tranquility when he was with her. His mind stilled and his body thrummed with the after affects of their coupling. The outside world was but a distant memory that faded upon his passing through those bedroom doors. This was his proverbial paradise._

_When she returned to his side it was with a trinket box in hand, "Perhaps time is lost to you, but unfortunately for me, it is a constant affliction." She handed it to him, "Here."_

_He took it, "What is this?" Salazar asked._

_She rolled her eyes, "Open it, you fool." He chuckled, prying the thing open. It was a necklace, a silver one, with an 'S' etched into the pendant's surface. _

_Cecilia reached over and pulled it out, "It's a locket." She explained, popping it open for him to see. There was a small portrait of her pretty face painted in on the left._

"_Why is this side blank?" He pointed towards the right portion of the pendant. _

_"Well..." She released a shaky sigh, "Salazar…I'm with child."_

* * *

He cracked his eyes open. It was still dark. How long had he been asleep, two hours…two minutes? His fingers brushed against his lips. They were tingling…as if he had just kissed her moments before. He heard the portrait door slam shut. The only other individuals privy to his password were the Head Girl and the Headmistress Hag… Seeing as how there was no immediate reason why the latter of whom would need to visit, that left only one other alternative. Salazar sat up and the burn in his chest reminded him to conceal his latest non-self-inflicted wound. He slipped on his undershirt and buttoned it up far enough so that it covered the mark.

Striding into the common room, he almost collided into her. She gasped at the sight of him, "Oh bother, you're awake," She said derisively, "And here I was hoping to off you in your sleep."

He arched an eyebrow, "Lovely to see that the early morning hours do not deter your contempt." He remarked acerbically.

She scoffed, "It is only a little after eleven-thirty."

"Did I not schedule your detention for Friday? Unless I've slept for days, either you're incredibly early or very, _very_ later." He walked over to the sofa and sat.

Hermione sat opposite him, "Here." She placed a pouch on his leg. "What is this?" He lifted it up by its drawstrings.

"Open it, you fool." She grumbled.

Salazar dropped the bag as if it had suddenly lit on fire. It fell to the floor and spilled open. He stared down fearfully at the article of jewelry, "Recognize it; it's _your_ locket isn't it?" She inquired.

He stood up abruptly; "Yes, what of it?" _What is this…Open it, you fool_. He moved to stand in front of the fireplace. What _was_ it about this night that the past persisted in haunting him? A cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck. He was not adamantine; he was _human_. He was incapable of taking this in stride all at once.

"Remember our discussion on horcruxes?" Hermione picked it off the floor, "_This _is one of them. We have to destroy it."

"Destroy…it…" He repeated after her slowly, letting the words sink in.

"Yes, _destroy _it!" She placed it down on the coffee table, "If we destroy it, we'd be destroying a portion of the Dark Lord's _soul_!"

_And in doing so you will simultaneously be destroying a part of __**mine**_... Salazar found himself thinking. "I cannot do this right now…I'm sorry." He really couldn't. It was too much too soon.

"That's alright."

He was surprised by her response. He expected her to badger him until he did as she said. Instead, she replaced the necklace into the pouch and set it back onto the table, "I would've done it myself. Unfortunately, Harry was rather mum on the subject as to exactly _how_ one goes about destroying a horcrux."

"I mean, I know _how_, but I don't happen to have access to a Basilisk's fang at the moment…and it's not as if I can just trounce up to McGonagall in the middle of the night and demand use of Godric Gryffindor's sword." He smiled; she was rambling. She tended to do that when she was tired, he'd noticed, "And besides," She went on, "The Dark Lord's not a twit. I'm sure he placed a couple thousand curses on that little bauble. It'd be _far_ too dangerous to attempt to destroy it _now_." Hermione concluded with a yawn.

"Then what _are_ you doing here?" Salazar stared at her.

The girl appeared dumbfounded, "I...just wanted to let you know that a prized possession of yours has been recovered-"

"Which couldn't wait until morning?" He interjected.

"Well, I suppose but then there was another matter…"

Salazar maneuvered his way back to the couch, "And this matter that you speak of revolves around…" He smirked.

"That." She pointed at a black silhouette perched atop his bookshelf. He had to squint to make out what the figure was.

"Balthazar, come here and meet your new owner." Hermione beckoned. The creature flew over and landed atop the table in front of them.

"You came all this way to disturb me over a ruddy bird?" Salazar examined the black barn owl. It hooted at him in offense.

"Yes…yes I did." She yawned again, "Can't expect me to get a proper sleep with that thing in my quarters. He and Crooks would've been at it all night."

"Ahhh…" He offered his arm out for the owl, "An enemy of the enemy is my friend." It lifted its leg and gripped onto it before scaling up the rest of the way, "Balthazar, was it?"

"Yes, Balthazar… came up with it just a while ago, actually." She prattled on before getting up to leave, "We'll continue this discussion in the morning."

Salazar ran a hand over the bird's feathered head, "Feel free to spend the night." He said in mock suggestion.

"You are absolutely vile."

"Yes, we all know how high your opinion is of me. Nevertheless, my bed remains perpetually open to you, Princess." Riling her up was fitting revenge for bothering him so late at night, not to mention he found it to be therapeutic. He'd already forgotten about the bag she'd brought along with her.

"Sick man…"

* * *

It was somewhere between Transfiguration and Ancient Runes the next day that Hermione realized she'd failed to mention the letter to Salazar. He'd been acting so out of character, even for _him_. From what she could see in the limited light, the man had gone almost deathly pale at the sight of the locket. Then there had been the business of his practically pacing in front of the fireplace. If she didn't know any better, she would've thought he was a nervous wreck. What could have happened in such a short span of time that would've caused him to be completely out of sorts? She nibbled on the end of her quill.

Professor Babbling came around to collect their homework assignments, "Miss Granger," She paused to look over Hermione's parchment, "Superb work. Five points to Gryffindor."

"Thank you, Professor." She needed to tell Salazar about the letter. If Harry went as far as to make an actual request that she bring him, then it was imperative that she did so.

As for actually destroying the locket, well…now that was a different matter altogether. She supposed she _could_ ask McGonagall to borrow the sword, but then there would be questions…questions that she wouldn't know how to answer. The Order would most definitely get involved and turn it into one huge fiasco. They'd be in meetings for weeks just to determine whom, with what, and _where_. It would only serve to complicate things. Her mind was already made up.

Without the sword, that left one other option; a Basilisk fang. She loathed the idea of having to make another trip down into the Chamber, but that's where the remaining fang was. If there was one good thing about Basilisk venom, it was that it never expired. It was incased inside the fangs of the snake forever. Taking the lifespan of the creature into consideration, it was easy to see why it was so incredibly rare to obtain a sample. You'd have to be crazy to go up against a reptile as formidable as the Basilisk. It was regarded as one of the few enigmatic animals of the wizarding world and as such, it was illegal to poach them. At least _now_ it was...she could probably count their entire population on two hands.

She would have to ask Salazar to take her into the Chamber sometime after dinner if they had any intention of annihilating a fragment of the Dark Lord's soul tonight. _The Dark Lord's soul_, she mused. It was practically a paradox in its own right.

* * *

Hermione took her time walking to Potions. Babbling had cut class early to allow them to read up for their exam on Thursday. She had a whole ten minutes before her next class. It was nice to not be in a hurry for once. It promised to be a chaotic evening. First there was the Chamber, then the sneaking out of the castle, and…were the portraits _whispering_ amongst each other? She paused in her trek down the Grand Staircase. Sure enough, multiple portraits hung abandoned, their subjects huddled together in hushed conversations in various other frames. Every now and then she'd catch them glancing curiously in her direction.

"Excuse me," She stepped over to a portrait jam-packed with at least seven subjects, "What is going on here?"

"Is it true that Salazar Slytherin has returned to Hogwarts?" One of the women piped up.

Hermione stared at her incredulously, "T-that is totally absurd," She stammered, "Who is responsible for spreading such rubbish?" She needed to find out, and _soon_. The last thing they needed was an inquiry. Word _always_ leaked back to the Ministry, what with the portraits having the capability to up and leave whenever they so desired. It was a troublesome feature.

"That Myrtle girl!" A man in a pointed hat answered gruffly, "She's been going about saying that Elizabeth Burke told her the new Potions Professor was Salazar Slytherin. Also mentioned that she confronted the bloke on his way down to the Chamber last night…"

_WHAT!_ She mentally shrieked. That stupid, _stupid, _man! "Well, I don't know about all that, but I can assure you that Salazar Slytherin has _not_ come back to Hogwarts," Hermione laughed nervously, "That would require him coming back from the dead first…which we all know is _impossible_." _Impossible, indeed…_

"Professor Salazar has no relation whatsoever to the Founder of Slytherin. Now, if you all will excuse me, good day…" Hopefully that would help quell the rumors until she could do proper damage control. _Damn_ Burke for opening her big mouth, especially to Moaning _bloody_ Myrtle. It was going to be another one of those days.

…And what was this about Salazar supposedly skulking off into the Chamber last night? Maybe it had something to do with why he'd been so skittish when she'd gone to see him. Him, suffering, from a guilty conscience; she found that hard to believe. She'd have to confront him about his little late night venture.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here…a lion cub that's strayed from its pride."

Hermione glared at the blonde-haired female in front of her, "Greengrass… I must admit I'm surprised you are capable of stringing together an actual eloquent sentence." Provoking Slytherins on their own turf was, perhaps, not the brightest idea, but she was in a foul mood and sometimes her emotions got the better of her.

"Shut up, you mudblood _slag_." Daphne spat, making Hermione wonder what exactly warranted her being called the equivalent of a _whore_.

"We _saw_ you sneaking into Professor Salazar's quarters last night!" Pansy Parkinson spouted out from behind the blonde.

_Ah_, there we are. "Really now?" Hermione ran a hand stealthily along the side of her robes, preparing to whip out her wand if necessary, "If that's the case then that would mean that you two were out after hours, am I correct?"

"Don't try to change the subject!" Daphne shouted.

"Ten points from Slytherin." Hermione responded, "Attempt to accost me further, and I shall do more than just dock house points." It was obvious that the two were skipping class at the moment also, but she was counting on them leaving her alone before she was forced to bring it up.

They didn't disappoint her, instead opting to continue on to wherever they had previously been headed, "You just wait…once the Dark Lord assumes power, filthy animals like her will be kept in kennels just like the mongrels they are." Pansy said purposefully loud enough for Hermione to overhear.

Hermione restrained herself from jinxing them. The bells chimed a second later and students swarmed into the halls. She waited outside the Potions classroom until it was empty before slipping in. Salazar had his back turned to her and was rifling through a stack of papers. She stopped by her desk to drop off her things and approached him, "I need you to take me down into the Chamber tonight."

"Whatever for?" He murmured, reading through an essay.

"I need a Basilisk fang."

That caught his attention, "I'm listening…"

"It's for…the locket."

He turned around to face her, leaning against the edge of his desk, "What is so particular about a Basilisk fang that you cannot find another means."

Hermione eyed the doorway nervously, "Now is not the time nor the place…"

"Then talk to me again when it _is_ the time and the place." He walked around her.

She glared at him, "Don't _think_ I don't know about your recent late night activities."

Salazar laughed, "Other than entertaining you, I've no idea what you're talking about." He disappeared into the storage closet.

"Oh you know very well what I mean," Hermione went in after him, "You are not to go down there anymore. I don't know what possessed you to do so last night, but it isn't worth having your cover blown." She hissed. He handed her a few bottles and scooted her out of the closet.

"Enough, I'll take you, if only to shut you up." He told her.

Hermione set the bottles on his desk, "That's not all…" She stared at him, "There was a letter…from Harry. We are to meet him tonight at midnight."

"We…?" Salazar eyed her curiously.

"Yes, _we_."

Hermione glanced over her shoulder. Her classmates were already starting to arrive. She left it at that and went to check on her potion. It was simmering bright red in its cauldron. Another five days and it should be down to a light pink. She replaced the lid and returned to her seat. The Polyjuice required that the lacewing flies be stewed for twenty-one days before the remaining ingredients could be added so she was wondering what he'd have the class do in the meantime. Though it was completely _bookish_ of her, she hoped it was something along the lines of mock N.E.W.T. exams. She refused to die before she could take the _actual_ thing, the Dark Lord be damned.

* * *

A _ten _page essay…he'd assigned them a _ten page _essay…due Friday! She was never one to complain about schoolwork but this was just ridiculous; _ten pages_? Was there even enough information available on the uses of shriveled hydra heads in potions to fill ten pages? Maybe _seven_ at the most, but not _ten…_ The amount of research required was going to be extensive and she would probably have to take a trip into the Restricted Section, but then again, _that_ was always exciting.

Hermione purposefully knocked her book bag onto the floor so as to have a reason to stay behind. She and Salazar had a conversation to conclude. The students in her aisle squeezed past and she waited until her row was empty before bending over. She slowly picked through her things and placed them atop the desk as her classmates departed. Pansy Parkinson was the last one out the door. She sneered at Hermione before shuffling out of the room. Hermione glared after her, making sure the door shut firmly behind her and warded the room with Muffliato charm.

Salazar sat behind his desk and exhaled deeply, "Let's hear it then."

* * *

Salazar took his evening meal in his quarters that night. He speared a slice of meat. It was truly dark magic, this horcrux business. He'd dabbled in his fair share before…but _this_. This just defied all natural law. The atrocities one had to commit in order to split the soul. This Dark Lord…was this the kind of man his legacy sired? It was a pity… Such a powerful wizard with so much potential, wasted on antagonizing wizardkind. Salazar supposed that he was no better, years squandered on his own personal aspirations. It must have been an inherited characteristic.

He let his fork clatter onto the plate as he downed the rest of his wine. His hand unconsciously strayed to his chest, hovering over Circe's brand. Damn that witch… He glanced at the timepiece Granger had lent him. It was a perplexing little thing-a-ma-bob, constantly ticking away the seconds. It grew quite wearisome. If he'd read it correctly, it was a quarter past eight. She promised to arrive promptly at half past the hour so he was left to wait another fifteen minutes.

He was not particularly fond of having to visit the Chamber again. It brought nothing but bad fortune and horrible recollections. Furthermore, he wasn't too thrilled that the sole purpose of this venture was to desecrate the remains of his dear pet. She'd been nothing but a hatchling; Inaga, when he'd set the task upon her to guard the Chamber.

The portrait door creaked open and Hermione appeared clad in pants and a long-sleeved tunic, "Let's go while the coast is clear."

* * *

Salazar strayed behind her. She was taking the stairs down into the Chamber two at a time. He made sure to fill a smaller jar with some of the blue salve incase his leg started troubling him. Thankfully, it had yet to even twinge. He stared at her. She looked just as determined as the day he'd first met her. She was so learned beyond her years that sometimes he forgot that she was merely…what; eighteen at most? Life had not been kind to this girl.

They trudged through the tunnels until finally emerging into what Salazar referred to as the "antechamber". He watched her step around the Basilisk carcass, examining it carefully. She extracted her wand and severed the fang from the snake's mandible. She turned it over in her hand.

"You know, once we're done with this you could sell it." He heard her say, "I'm sure it'd fetch a pretty penny. The venom alone is _priceless_. I know a few apothecaries that might offer you a decent sum." He scowled at the suggestion.

Her mission accomplished, they began their trip back, "So, what _were_ you doing down here the other night?" Hermione asked.

Salazar had anticipated the question, "Reminiscing." He replied simply. Amazingly, she seemed to believe him and he felt more the worse for it.

"Perhaps consider reminiscing somewhere less incriminating next time…" It was an order, not an implication.

* * *

He was being uncharacteristically quiet and Hermione found it unnerving. She concealed the Basilisk fang inside her jacket as they walked through the halls. It was late and the probability of running into someone was low, but she wasn't about to take any chances. She cast a sidelong glance at Salazar. His face was drawn. Something was bothering him, but she accredited it to being forced to bear witness to her pillaging of his former familiar.

_Meet us Wednesday at midnight. Moony's old haunt. _She had read through the letter at least a dozen times. It was the Shrieking Shack, she'd surmised. It was where Remus - Moony- had endured the duration of his monthly transformations. Not to mention, it was considered the "most haunted house in all of Britain". It was a convenient meeting place...getting there in one _undetected_ piece, however, would prove difficult.

They returned to Salazar's chambers briefly so as to properly prepare for the late night excursion. Hermione set the fang down nearby. She observed the man as he went about transfiguring his school robes into something more suitable. Her eyes darted towards the table in his common room. The pouch sat in the middle, surprisingly undisturbed. She would've thought he'd at least taken a look at it all things considered. He cleared his throat, mumbling that he was ready and the two set out.

Hermione led them out of the castle, careful to dodge a pair of prefects on patrol. They snaked along the wall and down over to the Whomping Willow, "Where is it that we are going, precisely?" Salazar asked, eyeing the gargantuan tree.

She searched the ground for a long branch locating one a ways off, "Nevermind that," she went to pick it up.

"Do not move from this spot until I tell you otherwise." Hermione dictated before sprinting off in the direction of the tree.

It creaked, lashing out at her when she grew too close. She jumped out of the way and aimed the branch for the knot in its trunk. She hit it dead on and the willow stilled in its motions, "Hurry!" She beckoned over to Salazar.

"Into the hole!" She whispered sharply.

He looked at her, stunned, "In _there_?"

"_Yes_," She hissed, "Go!" Having little other choice, Salazar climbed in. Hermione released her hold on the branch and slid through after him.

Safely beneath the tree, Hermione dusted the dirt off her pants, "We'll follow the tunnel from here."

* * *

The tunnel opened up into a decrepit house. Salazar had to watch where he stepped so as not to trip over any rubble. He was curious as to why this place had been designated the meeting spot. It looked ready to collapse at any moment. It was a pathetic structure. He stared at the girl, her wand was drawn. Should they be expecting trouble?

The floorboards creaked and they stilled, "Hermione, is that you?"

"Harry!" He saw her embrace the boy.

"In here." Potter ushered them into a room.

It appeared lived in. There were two cots for sleeping and a small fire burning in the fireplace. Hermione hugged the redhead seated on one of the cots before occupying the spot across from him. Salazar joined her, ignoring the steely stares being sent his way by her two male companions. They _had_ asked for him, after all, or so the girl had stated.

"Have you destroyed the locket?" Potter asked.

She shook her head, "No, not yet."

"Hermione…"

"It'll be done tonight, don't worry." She reassured them, "Where did you find it and what's all this about Regulus Black?"

"I was re-reading the note I found in the fake locket last year. It was signed _R.A.B._" Harry explained, "Then out of nowhere it hit me- Sirius' brother, Regulus Black- was a Death Eater!" His eyes lit up as if he'd just made the discovery all over again, "So, we went back to Grimmauld- the Order relocated after the holidays, remember? Sirius showed me the Black Family Tree once,"

Harry's face darkened, "I checked and there it was, _Regulus Arcturus Black_."

"We ransacked the place for days," Ron went on, "Couldn't find a thing. Then again, the place had been cleaned out before…all sorts of junk was thrown out."

"The basement was the last place we checked…we went through Kreacher's belongings and there it was..." Harry said, recalling all the items the House Elf had managed to salvage, "Hard to believe at first…couldn't tell it was the real thing until I held it…made you feel sick…"

"That explains why I felt so strange when I was looking at it…" The girl muttered.

"You must take care of it tonight." Potter ordered sternly.

"I promised already that it would be done," Hermione sighed in exasperation, "Can I convince you to come back with us?"

"Hermione, you know that'd be too dangerous…" He smiled sadly.

Salazar was growing wearisome. It was getting later and later. Did no one take it into consideration that he had classes to teach in the morning? "The girl said that you asked for me specifically; any reason as to _why_?"

"Yes…you must help her destroy the locket." Potter finally addressed him, "There is Dark Magic protecting that thing…we need you to protect_ her_." He stared Salazar pointedly in the eye.

Salazar picked up on the double entendre in the boy's words. They were appointing him the girl's personal bodyguard too, now where they? "Fine, now if that is all, let us go." He waited for Hermione to bid the boys a tearful goodbye before heading back into the passageway.

* * *

They made it back to his chambers a while later. Salazar shot a bolt of magic into the fireplace and it roared awake, illuminating the room. Hermione walked past him straight for the pouch on the coffee table. She knelt down and opened the bag, removing the locket. He watched her as she turned it over in her hands, feeling a pang in his chest at the sight. She placed it down and went to grab the fang.

"_Don't_!" He shouted at her.

She retracted her hand, "What do you mean 'don't'?"

Salazar crossed the distance between them and knelt down, "Let me…" He didn't know why he'd said it; the words had already escaped his mouth.

"What is it I am to do?" His asked, eyes lingering on the locket's silver surface.

"Stab it," She replied, "But perhaps you ought to try opening it first…"

His hand shook. Salazar strained to control himself as he lifted the object by its chain, _"Why is this side blank?"…"Because…that space…is reserved…Salazar…I'm with child." _He slammed it down and gripped the sides of his head. He couldn't do this. He could not destroy the last remaining thread that tied him to the man he once was…_is?_ He didn't know. Was he still the same person? Had he changed? _Who_ was he? _Cecilia…_

"Salazar!" His head snapped to the side, _she_ was staring at him, eyes filled with…what was that? _Concern…_? Yes…for _her_ he'd do this. He had to…for _her._ He grabbed the locket hissed out in Parseltongue. The locket snapped open and there was a rush of dark magic. Hermione was blasted back at the sheer force. The fang flew off the table and the fire behind them was snuffed out leaving the room shrouded in darkness. Salazar was knocked to the floor.

A creature seeped out of the locket and onto the table, amassed in a nauseating smell…like that of a rotting corpse. It shrieked out and squirmed, "_Salazar! SALAZAR! Look at me! LOOK AT ME! PLEASE! LOVE ME! _" It cried out, reaching for him. Salazar gagged and inched back. Hermione crawled over to him and latched onto his arm.

"_YOU NEVER LOVED ME; __**ME, **the woman that bore your only son!_" It continued to shriek.

"You must destroy it!" Hermione yelled.

Salazar could only watch in terror as the creature took on the shape of her- Cecilia. Gone was the gruesome smell and in its place the familiar scent of lilacs, "_Salazar…_" It sobbed, "_Was I not enough for you? Was our son not enough for you?" _It yanked at the hair on its head_, "I loved you! I LOVED YOU! I LOVED ONLY YOU!_"

Its body contorted sickeningly into the form of a little boy, "_Mama where's Papa? Papa…Papa is that you! Papa! Papa!_"

"Salazar, please!" Hermione begged.

"_Papa__ it's dark! Where are you? I'm scared! Papa_!"

Salazar's heart constricted. He felt around on the floor, locating the fang, _"Papa!"_

"Do it!" The girl screeched.

"I can't!" He cried out, "I can't!"

"You must!"

"My son!"

"It's not real! Salazar, it's NOT REAL!"

He wrapped his hand around the fang, "Say it again!"

"IT'S NOT REAL!" She repeated.

In one swift movement, he lifted the fang and pierced the locket. The creature screamed bloody murder, _"Papa__! SALAZAR!_" Pain shot through his arm and he dropped the fang. The room trembled and the creature crumbled in on itself and evaporated, then all was quiet. The fire returned to life in the hearth.

Salazar's chest heaved and he jerked away from Hermione to vomit. He emptied the contents of his stomach onto the floor. When he'd turned back around she'd already prepared a glass of water for him and he downed it in one gulp. She aimed her wand at the mess he'd made and it disappeared. His hands were still shaking. He set the glass down and stared at the ground_…"Papa!"_

* * *

"Salazar…?" Hermione spoke softly, placing a hand cautiously on his shoulder. He cringed away from her, "It's me, Salazar…" She pressed her palm up against the side of his face. It was wet.

"Leave me," He murmured, moving out of her reach.

"But-" She started.

"NO!" He bellowed, "Please…leave me." He turned around…so…she did.

* * *

Author's Note:

You all can thank Tempted Sacrifice for this update- Congrats on being the 400th reviewer! YAY!

Keep in mind this fanfiction was started BEFORE the publication of the last book, but the locket scene was inspired by the actual events in D.H…For those of you wondering where Kreacher was:

"To Kreacher's horror, Sirius left all his belongings to Harry in his will, so Harry is Kreacher's master now (HBP3). Rather than deal with him on a daily basis, Harry commanded Kreacher to work at Hogwarts, although Harry is still Kreacher's master (HBP19)." – courtesy of Harry Potter Lexicon.

So...that's how it's going to stay :)

I had fun with this chapter. I got to portray Salazar as more than an ass. He is still just a man after all. I know things are getting more complicated as this goes along, but bear with me. I will make sure to explain all. The next chapter will take a bit longer to get out. I already had this one written out a long time ago. I was just waiting for dramatitc effect, haha! Thank You for your support! I look forward to read your reviews.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 18: Precious**

Hermione had not spoken to Salazar in twenty-four hours, which was a long-shot considering how much time they had spent in each other's company. Hermione moved the food around on her plate with a fork. Her eyes would occasionally drift towards the faculty table in some hopes that she may suddenly find him having somehow manifested himself. Merlin knew the man sure managed to make himself quite scarce recently.

He'd ordered her to oversee the class' Polyjuice preparations yesterday before disappearing into his office.

After fifteen minutes worth of internal debate, she decided against going to check on the man. She didn't need to provide anymore material for Parkinson and Greengrass to pollute the rumor pool with. Fortunately, he returned briefly before the end of class to remind them about their assignment. However, he secluded himself back in his office shortly thereafter. Hermione dismissed class in his stead and waited for the room to empty before making an attempt at his attention.

When she tried the handle, it failed to give. She rattled it; hoping annoyance would prompt him to unlock the door. The action only succeeded in irritating her instead. She began to lecture him through the door about shirking his duties as a professor. She'd left after delivering a parting kick to the door that he was sure to have heard.

Destroying the locket horcrux had been an experience she would not quickly forget. It had been horrifying, for _both_ of them, but you didn't see _her_ barricading herself in her rooms. Though, she supposed it had been slightly more emotionally wrenching for him. She'd give him that much.

But _still_...

Time was not a luxury afforded to them! He could deal with his demons later. There were far more pressing matters to attend to. She'd be damned if he expected her to play substitute for the rest of term. The man's level of irresponsibility was ridiculous!

_**CRACK.**_

Hermione gasped. Her innocent prodding had apparently escalated into an all out assault at some point. Her plate had shattered, the fork lodged into the wooden surface of the table. She looked around, heat creeping up the nape of her neck. Colin Creevey was staring at her from across the table, mouth hanging open and eyes wide with fear.

_Oh._

She smiled weakly at him and carefully yanked the fork free before setting it down. Mumbling a spell to fix the plate, she reached for her belongings and scurried out of the Great Hall, careful not to look at anyone else or else risk betraying the blush staining her cheeks.

* * *

Salazar massaged his temples, trying to avoid eyeing the stacks of parchment atop his desk. It appeared he was destined to spend every waking moment of the approaching weekend grading. He honestly had not expected so many students to turn in the lengthy assignment. He supposed he should be pleased by such a positive output of work. The door to his classroom creaked open, students stumbling in warily. He recognized Granger easily by her particularly steady gait. She took her seat with the rest of them and began unpacking her quill and ink. He watched her inconspicuously.

Her book was splayed open and her eyes were already scanning the length of the page as her right hand proceeded to pen notes on a separate piece of parchment. The girl was so meticulous in manner. It was rather aggravating. He smoothed over the trimmed patch of hair on his chin with the pad of his thumb. His eyes eventually strayed from the Gryffindor female back to the tower of assignments piled high on his desk. They seemed to grow more daunting by the minute. It occurred to him then that he had detention scheduled for that evening. He had almost forgotten entirely. He stared at the parchment piles again and smiled.

Problem solved.

He sighed; his mood lightened, "I assume all of you have completed the assignment,"

Salazar noted the select few students whom shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

Exhaustion weakened his otherwise iron resolve, "For those of you-_other than Miss Granger_- that have managed to keep up with your calendars," His little snide insert earned him a look from the girl.

He had to restrain a chuckle, "You'll be aware that your potions are scheduled to stew for the day, and seeing as how I'm feeling uncharacteristically merciful this afternoon,"

He leaned back in his chair, "I've decided to allow the duration of this class period for those of you who failed to complete the assignment."

There was a collective sigh of relief amongst the students, but before they could get too comfortable, he made sure to add on a final note.

"Regardless, I do not condone latework. Two points will be deducted from your final grade for all of you who turn in the essay at the end of class. Do **not** expect such leniency in the future."

Half the class set to the task while the other sat silently in their seats. He knew it was only a matter of time when sure enough, Granger rose from her seat and stalked over to his desk, assignment in hand.

"Professor," She spoke acerbically.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. Seeing as how I have nothing more for you, you are dismissed- same applies to the rest of you lot that actually know how to follow directions." He addressed the select few still seated.

"I expect to see you this evening for your scheduled detention, young lady, seven o' clock, not a minute later."

Hermione pursed her lips, eyes narrowing dangerously, "Yes sir."

* * *

Hermione deposited her bookbag on the floor halfway between the door and her bed. She collapsed onto the mattress, relishing in the feel of cool linen against her warm face. All that stair-climbing and walking was one hell of a workout. She wondered how she managed to do it most days. Crookshanks snored softly a few inches away from her. She reached out to scratch his head. He stared at her for a moment before shutting his eyes again.

Hermione rolled onto her side and gathered the ball of fur, dragging him across the bed to her. Crookshanks mewled in protest, claws digging into the covers weakly, but once she had him resting against her stomach, he settled down. She longed to follow her pet into sleep but she feared she may not wake up in time for "detention". Rolling her eyes, her mouth turned up in a small, perturbed frown.

Not wanting to wake Crookshanks, she summoned a book from her bookshelf. It floated over to where she rested, flipping open to the appropriate page. Hermione read until the light from her window was not enough to make out the words on the parchment. She reached over and plucked the thing out of the air, setting it down on the bed.

Crooks pushed himself up and stretched. Rubbing his massive body against her, he jumped off the bed and strutted toward the door where he sat, meowing to be let out for the evening.

Hermione got up and walked over to him, "Be good," She instructed, patting him on the head before opening the door.

He nuzzled her hand and slipped out.

Shutting the door behind him, Hermione ran a hand through the tangled mess that was her hair. She looked at the alarm clock on her nightstand. It was already six o'clock. Dinner was being served, but she didn't feel like making the long journey just yet. Instead, she decided to take advantage of what was sure to be a completely deserted Prefects' Bathroom. She dug around in her trunk for a change of clothes and her bag of toiletries.

Necessities in hand, she headed out, anticipating the inviting warmth of the scented waters that awaited her.

* * *

Having managed to fall asleep in the tub, Hermione only had time to run back to her rooms to put away her hairbrush and personal items. Her hair was still sopping wet despite the ferocious attempts she made at drying it with her towel on the jog back up to Gryffindor Tower. She only had seven minutes to make it down to the dungeons. Taking the stairs two, sometimes three, at a time, she made it onto the ground floor, descending into the dark dungeon passageways beyond. The back of her sweater was soaked through and the damp chill stung the skin between her shoulder blades.

Hermione slowed her pace within a few feet of the Potions Classroom. The door was ajar allowing light to spill into the hallway. Entering the classroom, the door slammed shut behind her. She withdrew her wand, startled.

A piece of parchment was tacked onto the back of the door:

_Meet me in my quarters. Use the office entrance._

_You have:_

_12 seconds_

_-S_

Her eyes widened as the "12" dissolved and turned into an "11". The bastard was actually keeping track of time!

"Arse!"

She sprinted across the classroom and yanked the door to his office open, striding through it and into the stairwell beyond that led to his private rooms. Chest heaving, she found him lounging on his sofa, barefoot, still clad in slacks with his shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He had a pile of parchment stacked nearby, a quill resting neatly on top.

"Ah, there you are!" He stood up to greet her, a mocking smile on his face.

Hermione refrained from name-calling or else risk him docking house points, instead giving him the dirtiest look she could muster.

"What would you have done if I had not made it to the classroom on time?"

He shrugged, "The door would've closed anyway and you would have been locked out. I _did _say seven o' clock and not a minute later, did I not?"

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at her.

"What in Merlin's name happened to _you_?"

He reached out to grasp a strand of wet hair, twirling it around his forefinger.

She jerked away from him, "I _bathed_."

"Now what is it you'll have me do?"

Salazar arched an eyebrow at her attitude.

"You'll be grading papers for me this evening. Everything's ready for you. Have at it."

He pointed toward the stack of papers.

She complied without protest and got to work.

* * *

Salazar sat on the sofa across from her, marking up a fifth year's pathetic excuse for a paper. He was already starting to weed out the inclined from the inept. Setting the paper down in his lap, he rotated his wrist. He watched absently as Hermione nibbled the end of her quill before jotting something down in the margin of the paper in her hand. She was already three-fourths of the way through; then again, he _had_ given her first years to work with. And the prompt had been relatively simple.

Her hair was still damp. It hung loosely down her back and over her shoulders. His thoughts turned to the way her cheeks had looked when she'd stormed in earlier, all flushed pink. It was a good look for her…

He shook his head and continued grading.

About two papers later the sound of rustling parchment pulled him out of his work long enough to see that the girl had fallen asleep. Her arm was draped over the side of the sofa, head resting on it awkwardly. Her legs were pulled up close. The quill dangled weakly in her right hand.

Salazar rubbed the back of his neck. They'd been grading for a while now, it must've been at least midnight. He set his quill aside and got up to stretch. Releasing a yawn, he went to wake Hermione so that she could return to her rooms. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he shook the girl softly. She moaned and batted him away.

"It's time you headed back to your quarters."

She ignored him and continued to sleep.

"Have it your way then."

He returned to his grading, finishing up the paper before deciding to just move Hermione himself. It was getting cold despite the fire in the hearth and he couldn't let her sleep in the common room. He kicked pieces of parchment out of the way and retrieved the quill clenched in her hand. The thing had already dripped ink onto the carpet. He'd make her clean that up later. Slipping one arm under her legs and the other around her shoulders, he heaved her small frame up.

Salazar carried Hermione to his bedroom where he laid her on the bed. Thankfully, the house elves had already taken care to pull back the covers. He threw a heavy blanket over her and dimmed the lights before dragging himself back to the common room. He wanted to get through a few more papers before calling it a night.

* * *

_Warm lips pressed against the skin of her neck. She smiled, biting her lip to contain the giggle that threatened to bubble up her throat. A hand splayed itself across her bare stomach and she felt the muscles contract beneath the calloused palm. She fought to keep her eyes closed, feigning sleep, albeit failing horribly. Her body was all too willing to betray her. The pair of lips continued to assault her neck, bestowing light kisses along the column and offering an occasional nip that made a flood of warmth spread throughout her body. The hand that had previously rested so innocently against her belly was now rubbing circles against the tender flesh._

_When those lips descended upon the crook of her neck, she released a strangled laugh._

"_Salazar! Stop it!" She demanded feebly…_

…_in a voice that was not her own._

_Suddenly conscious, her eyes shot open and she was staring into the face of the man she'd been grading papers for only a few moments before (or so it seemed)._

_What the bloody hell was going on? _

_Hermione felt him grip her chin and angle her face as he prepared to kiss her. Her first reaction was to move away, but when she tried, her body remained still. He kissed her slowly, sensually. Her arm moved of its own volition to wrap around the back of his neck, pressing her naked body against the cool skin of his chest._

_She was mortified._

"_Cecilia…" He moaned into her mouth._

_What?_

"_It is late, my love. We should get up. I need to bathe."_

"_Never." He protested, wrapping his arms around her torso._

_Hermione listened intently, trying to ignore the tingling sensation in her abdomen. Obviously she had zero control over the situation. She could feel everything, see everything, hear everything, but this body was not hers. She was some sort of imprisoned subconscious. _

_Cecilia untangled herself from Salazar long enough to escape him and wrap a sheet around her form. She glided over to a dressing table and sat. The face reflected in the looking glass was a lovely one. Hermione admired the gentle curve of the woman's jaw line as she combed through her jet black hair nimbly with slender fingers. She saw Salazar watching her through Cecilia's eyes. He looked younger than the man she'd come to know in real life- for surely this was a dream._

"_Beautiful, isn't he?"_

_Hermione did not immediately realize that the question had been addressed to her, yet she found herself answering anyway._

"_Yes…yes, he is."_

_The woman chuckled and the image reflected in the mirror changed. The world spun for a moment and Hermione found herself seated in front of the very same mirror, sheet clinging loosely to her small frame. Cecilia smiled at her from the other side and continued to fix her hair. Hermione gathered the sheet tighter around her torso, self-consciously. She was too stupefied to notice Salazar standing behind her. She watched his reflection through the mirror as he brushed the strands of hair over Cecilia's shoulder, simultaneously doing so to her own._

_She gasped and her hand darted to her shoulder, expecting to find his hand resting there as it did in the mirror's reflection...only it wasn't. She could feel the warmth of his skin and the pressure of his palm, but otherwise, it was not there. For some reason, she longed to cry. The corners of her eyes burned. _

_Salazar leaned forward and Hermione could feel his breath against the shell of her ear._

"_You are perfect."_

_Hermione choked on a sob._

_The background faded away until all that was left was Cecilia's face. _

"_Don't be fooled. He'll never love you. He's incapable of love. He's nothing more than the empty shell of a man who sold his soul out of ambition."_

"_What are you talking about?"_

_Cecilia's face darkened. The mirror shattered and a hand shot out to wrap around Hermione's throat. She screamed before it could constrict her windpipe. Nails bit into the back of her neck._

"_HE'LL NEVER LOVE YOU…JUST LIKE HE NEVER LOVED ME!"_

_Hermione was able to choke out one last scream before everything went black._

* * *

Salazar was jolted awake by the sound of screaming. He shoved himself off the sofa and dashed for his bedroom. With a wave of his wand, the lights illuminated the room. The covers were strewn aside and Hermione lay choking in the middle of the bed. Her face was red and sweat beaded her brow. He climbed over to her and shook her shoulders so hard he was afraid her neck might break. Her hands shot to her throat and she continued to cough, scrambling for air.

"WAKE UP, GIRL!"

His heart beat painfully in his chest as he watched her struggle to breathe.

"HERMIONE, PLEASE!"

With a gasp of air, her body arched and her eyes snapped open. He pulled her into his lap and she clung to the front of his shirt as she took in deep gulps of air. She trembled ferociously. He grabbed her face and smoothed the hair away from her cheeks. She stared up at him, tears streaming out the corners of her eyes.

"Hermione,"

She sobbed, throwing her arms around him. Salazar cradled her head in his hand and rocked her gently until the sobs subsided. They stayed like that for what felt like hours until Hermione calmed down and Salazar's legs had gone completely numb. She refused to move more than an inch away from him when he attempted to separate. Her hands maintained a vice-like grip on his shirt. When he moved to tilt her head up she winced. Puzzled, Salazar was able to pull them far enough apart to be able to inspect her throat. It was bruised. He brushed her hair out of the way and spotted multiple crescent moon indents at the back of her neck. Salazar prodded at them carefully in disbelief and she whimpered.

"What in Merlin's name happened to you?"

His eyes searched hers for some sort of answer.

She avoided his gaze.

"Fine, I suppose we'll figure this out in the morning."

Salazar collapsed onto his back, taking her with him. Despite everything, she fought him, pushing feebly against his chest. He held her to him until she stopped struggling. They laid there in silence, Hermione's head pillowed on top of Salazar's chest. He reached out to grasp the blanket and pulled it over them. Throwing an arm over his head, he released a heavy sigh as a hand found its way to Hermione's back. He started to rub it softly with his thumb and felt her tense beneath his touch.

"You need to relax and get some sleep."

She released a sigh of her own and he felt her back muscles loosen. He waited until her breathing evened out before falling asleep himself.

* * *

_Thu-Thump…Thu-Thump…Thu-Thump…_

Hermione listened to the steady beat of Salazar's heart as it thrummed beneath his breast. It was a rhythm she was learning to cherish. It was the rhythm of life. She would doze in and out of sleep, but when she woke up, it was always to that sound. She lifted her hand and let it hover over the middle of his chest, just above the area where the organ pulsed. She could feel the heat radiating off his skin.

She glanced at him. His face was passive. He was still asleep. She placed the palm of her hand gingerly against the exposed patch of flesh. For a moment she wasn't able to discern his heartbeat from her own.

_Thu-Thump…_

There it was.

Hermione allowed her hand to rest against him for a while longer before deciding to remove it. As soon as she'd lifted her hand, his own promptly found it and kept it in place. She mustered her courage enough to look up at him. The stormy grey of his eyes were staring lazily down at her. He entwined their fingers and turned his head away, shutting his eyes again.

She sidled up closer to him and he adjusted to accommodate her.

She guessed it had to be around noon the way the light played on the waters of the lake outside the windows. Thankfully, nothing too frightful had drifted by, only a school of fish here and there. The mermaids kept to their colonies and the grindylows rarely ventured out of the kelp beds. She figured she ought to be leaving soon. Ginny was probably looking for her and Crooks…

_Thu-Thump…_

They could wait.

She watched him sleep. Her mind was uncharacteristically silent.

"How many times must I reiterate how rude it is to stare?"

He always had to ruin the moment by opening his mouth. She smiled. Hermione pushed herself up on her elbow and extracted her hand from his, placing it against the side of his face.

He eyed her.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead, "You are beautiful," She mumbled, "When you sleep."

His hand rose to caress her cheek and she screamed at herself to run before it was too late.

But it already was- far too late, that is.

Salazar pulled her toward him, kissing each eyelid, the tip of her nose, and then her lips. She responded, matching every movement with her own as her hands slid slowly down his chest.

"Salazar," She managed in between kisses.

"Hmm…?"

"What is this?" She traced a patch of raised skin with her fingertip.

His motions abruptly stilled.

"Oh, that…"

Hermione leaned back to get a better look.

"YES, that."

She sat back on the bed.

Salazar eased himself up, his back to the headboard. His head lolled back with a soft thud.

"Salazar,"

"Yes, yes, I know…just give me a minute."

"A _minute_?" She parroted, "A minute for what; to make something up?"

"No," He grumbled, "A minute to _recover_."

Hermione blushed.

"Oh."

She started to fuss with her hair, imagining the wreck she must look like.

Salazar cleared his throat.

"First and foremost, surrender your wand, please."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, "What for?"

"So that you may not be tempted to curse, **kill**, or hex me for what I am about to tell you."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then I will divulge nothing."

"You know I don't need a wand to do any number of those things."

He seemed to mull it over.

"Perhaps, but nonetheless, those are my terms."

Hermione rolled her eyes and fished around in her pocket, pulling it out. She offered it to him and he took it from her with a bewildered look on his face.

"How are you able to store this in those tight little trousers of yours?"

"Extension charm, now get on with it already."

"Very well then…"

* * *

"_You did __**WHAT!**_"

Salazar winced, "No need to yell, love."

She'd been taking it rather well up until now, actually.

"Oh god, things can't get any worse, can they?" She moaned into her hands, "And don't call me that." She added as an afterthought.

He smirked, "Don't call you what, _love?_"

She looked ready to smack him.

"I'm just saying you shouldn't throw that word around so carelessly is all." Hermione muttered, looking away.

That struck a chord in him. She was right, he was acting foolish.

"So, let me get this straight, you were never officially _dead_?"

Salazar grabbed a pillow and shoved it behind him so that he was half propped up, half lying down.

"Correct. My physical body had deteriorated, but the magic sustained my consciousness. Therefore, I was not completely lost to the world, just in a state of suspended animation."

He heard her flop back onto the mattress near his feet. He interpreted the ensuing silence as her taking the time to digest everything. His hand strayed to the brand on his chest. It symbolized the pact between himself and the Goddess, a promise he could not break. She'd made sure he could not escape her this time. To live without magic: that would be the ultimate punishment. Catering to Circe in the afterlife for an eternity was hardly as terrifying. He tried to smooth down the ridges on his skin in vain.

"I'll have no part in this." Hermione said, "I refuse to help you condemn another."

"Fair enough."

He had not been entirely honest with her about his predicament. Salazar mentioned only half the conditions of the agreement he had made. He decided, for some peculiar reason, to leave out the part where he could potentially lose his magical ability should he fail. It was just something his pride wouldn't allow him to admit out loud. That and perhaps, he feared the possibility of failure enough…

Hermione rolled onto her stomach, "You are one of the most taxing individuals I've ever had the misfortune to have met, I hope you know that?"

Salazar grinned, "And yet, you're still here."

She got up, "Good point. I'm leaving."

"Wait!"

Salazar reached out to stop her.

"What?"

She turned to look at him with an air of impatience about her.

"You owe me an explanation."

"What are you going on about now?"

"Last night," He said sternly, "What happened to you?"

She flinched, "I-It was nothing…a nightmare."

For all her cleverness, the girl was a miserable liar.

"Nightmares do not leave bruises around a person's neck."

She lightly touched her throat, "Please don't make me talk about it. Just let it go."

He hesitated, but the tone in her voice convinced him to do as she asked.

Hermione slid off the bed.

"My wand?"

Salazar handed it to her and she started for the door.

Pausing halfway across the room, she turned, "Thank you."

He nodded at her from his spot on the bed.

When she had gone, Salazar let himself fall back down onto the mattress. Something was truly troubling her. What in the world had she been dreaming about? Furthermore, was it even possible for dreams to cause an individual to sustain physical damage in the real world? If her injuries were any indication of that, well, then he already had an answer. Suddenly, he wished he hadn't allowed her to go so soon. It wasn't safe.

He decided to leave her alone for the time being, but he was determined that she not sleep alone for the next few nights. He shuddered to think what would happen if there was a repeat of last night. She wasn't going to be too happy with his decision, but it was for her own good. If he had to, he'd threaten to tell one of the Order Members about what happened just to get her to comply with his wishes. He doubted she would allow that, therefore, she would have no choice.

Salazar decided he'd owl her about it later that evening.

Meanwhile, however, he needed more sleep.

* * *

Salazar woke up later that day with a strange feeling stirring in the pit of his stomach. It was a sensation he had felt before but couldn't quite put his finger on, at least until he decided to finally open his eyes. It occurred to him all at once that the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach was his body's mechanism of warning him. There was a disturbance in his present environment that he should be wary of, the figure of a woman hovering at the foot of his bed, for example.

The room was unnaturally chilly, the kind of cold that usually accompanied apparitions.

"Lord Slytherin, Merlin! It is you! The rumors were true!"

She looked so familiar, this woman. Thick blonde curls spilled over her shoulders and plump, pink lips, but it was the set of her eyes, almond shaped with violet irises. A telling feature; they were her mother's eyes.

"Helena? Helena Ravenclaw?"

* * *

**Author's Note**:

Yes, I know. This chapter had been a LONG time coming. Unfortunately, school and work have been keeping me very busy. I do apologize, but seeing as it is now that time of the year again (SUMMER) I can promise you more updates!

Starting with this one! Yay!

This chapter was titled after the song Precious by Depeche Mode. I had it on replay a couple of times while writing this. It seemed to mesh well with the content.

**So I have a few random tidbits to throw out here**:

First of all- In the name of Merlin's saggy left nutsack, we need some Hermione/Salazar fanart out there! I've searched all over and have come up with naught. This is very disappointing! I usually take great inspiration from fanart, so it'd be nice to have some. I'm tired of looking up Hermione/Snape stuff on Deviantart and mentally photoshopping Salazar in Snape's place. So, if any of you lovely readers out there would like to be the first to supply the world with Hermione/Salazar fanart, I prompt you to do so! And please, SEND ME THE LINK! Fanart, photomanipulation, icons, ANYTHING!

Secondly- I've compiled a soundtrack of songs for this story if anyone's interested in a little mood music.

1. The Story- 30 Seconds To Mars (Salazar's "Theme")

2. Hometown Glory- Adele (Hermione's "Theme")

3. Another Round- Foo Fighters

4. Letters from the Sky- Civil Twilight

5. Disappear- Hoobastank

6. Letting Go- Nitin Sawhney

7. Haunt Me- Sade

8. Please Don't Go- Barcelona

Bonus Tracks: La Vie En Rose- Edith Piaf (Rabastan) & Precious- Depeche Mode


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